


The High King And The Bandit

by IllusiveWritings



Category: Castle
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Skyrim Fusion, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-13 18:39:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 66,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3392090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IllusiveWritings/pseuds/IllusiveWritings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crossover with The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim (not marking as a crossover, as it wouldn't fit in the Skyrim fandom). Prompt from castlefanficprompts. Becketts a Bandit Chief with a big bounty on her head. She has wreaked havoc in the hold for a long time, and the king is sick of it. Castle, in Ulfric's position, orders a group led by the Dovahkiin to bring her back to Windhelm's prison. More details inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fill deviates a little from the prompt, as I set it after the main quest has been completed and Alduin defeated, and the Civil War questline has been resolved in favor of the Stormcloaks and the Moot as taken place so that Ulfric/Castle is now High King of Skyrim. It takes place a little bit after a year since the event of Helgen.
> 
> By The Nines, please Mara let me pull this off without a beta-reader. Julianos, let me write something that's free of typos and Stendarr, allow my tendency for linguistic drift to take a vacation so I won't push Italian grammar upon the English one.
> 
> Talos be with me.

The attack had came during a rainy morning, visibility was reduced to nothing and the lookout hadn't noticed the small group of Stormcloak soldiers approaching from the mountain. Taken completely off guard, the small group of bandits couldn't hold their own against the better equipped men as they went scouring through the rooms of the fort, disarming and cuffing them, one by one.

The chief had tried to hold on, but there was little to nothing to do against the skilled magic and powerful Thu'um of the Dovahkiin. The Breton shouted her against the wall of her room, the sudden blow sent her sword and shield flying away from her grasp and despite the heavy steel helmet, she hit her head and lost consciousness.

She woke up hours later, gagged, hands cuffed behind her back, as a soldier pulled her off the back of a cart. They were in Solitude.

The bandit chief sighed. They were going to be judge by the High King himself. That self-righteous prick that had forced war on the land, reducing way too many people to a life of crime. She grunted, as the same man pulled her up on her feet and forced her to walk ahead of her group.

The Winter Palace smelled of beewax, mud and leather. As she walked through the hall and upstairs to the High King throne, she couldn't help but sigh at the memory of her own house in the Falkreath hold, now reduced to a pile of ash. The man holding her arms stopped, forcing her to stop with him, then he grabbed her hair and kicked the back of her legs, forcing her on her knees in front of the High King.

"So here's the bandit that managed to stop all the Caravans in the hold."

His voice was deep, plain and almost bored, as he spoke. She looked up, through the soggy strands of hair she saw a tall man with short brown hair, clean shaven, dressed in the finest clothes she had seen in a long while. He looked so much different from the tales the bards in taverns told. They always described him as a true Nord, but he looked nothing like the rugged typical Nord with long hair and unruly beard, calloused hands and skin marked by the harshness of Skyrim's weather. He wore a worn amulet of Talos, not too different from the one she had beneath her tunic. At least he was coherent enough, his crusade against the Empire and Thalmor had been fuelled by the Nords attachment to their human God. He respected at least that.

"I guess that the bounty on your head would bring results, one day or another, but I never thought you could be a woman."

A scornful grunt escaped her throat, against her will. Her captor's hold on her hair tightened, enough to elicit a whimper of pain.

"Enough," the King ordered. "What's your name?"

The man removed her gag, letting it fall around her bruised neck. "Katherine Beckett." She never used her full name, but she was educated enough to know how to speak in front of the King.

"Imperial?"

"Only my father. My mother was a Nord, from Falkreath Hold."

"I see." He took a moment to look her straight at her, his deep blue eyes felt like lances. "Your crimes dictate death by beheading. The sentence will be executed as soon as it can be organized. Take them to the dungeon, but put the chief in her own cell, away from her comrades. I don't want them conspiring to escape."

That was six weeks before. Last seed had rolled into Hearthfire, the wind chilled as it gusted from the Sea Of Ghosts and the days became shorter. Her fellow highwaymen had been executed, one by one. She was the only one left. More criminals came and went, most of them incarcerated for petty thefts, there were a couple of necromages and more drunkards she could count. The guards treated her fairly. Food arrived every day on time, mead was decent enough. When she had asked, books from the royal library had been delivered to her cell. Upon request, a priest of Talos had been sent to her cell for a prayer. Warmer clothes were provided when the court healer had found her pretty much frozen on her bunk bed.

All her needs were looked after.

Yet, death seemed to defy her. The self proclaimed High King, Jarl Richard Castle of Windhelm, kept her alive for longer than she had expected. Every day was the same routine, she spent her time reading. When she finished the books she had been given, new ones were sent. That lasted for nearly two months.

Until one night, a little bit after she had been ordered to extinguish her candle, she heard muffled voices coming from the guardhouse, then heavy steps that stopped outside her cell. A key turned, and the heavy door opened. A small stripe of light entered the small square space, then a man entered, carrying a washbowl and a jug of water. Inside the washbowl, a small bar of soap. "We can bring more water if you need. Clean yourself up. There are clothes in this bag, towels too," he ordered, as he let a canvas bag fall from his shoulder. "Knock when you're done." Then he exited, locking the door behind him.

That was it. The end. They were going to behead her at first light, and they wanted her clean and properly dressed, to use her as an example. Sighing, she complied. She washed herself, making good use of the little water she had been given. Using the towels, she dried up before the chill of the night turned her in an icicle and she got dressed. The clothes inside the bag were definitely of higher quality, tailored probably. The fur-lined trousers were cut for feminine bodies, so was the wool tunic. The boots were of quality leather too. They were warm also, the cloth woven carefully by skilled artisans. They really wanted her to be an example for the rest of the population.

Cuffed, she was escorted to the Palace though, not the Hall Of The Dead for the last rites before the executioner dropped the axe on her neck. The guards led her upstairs and opened a door, pushed her in, and closed it again.

She was in the High King's private chambers. High King Richard Castle sat at the head of a table, a pewter jug in one hand, quill in the other. When the door closed behind her, he quickly raised his eyes from the parchment in front of him and gestured her to come closer. "Take a seat," he spoke. "Can I offer you a drink? Mead? Wine? Ale perhaps?"

She sat in front of him, the cuffs at her wrists clinked. "Mead would be fine, thank you, Your Highness."

He stood and walked to a cabinet behind him. Beckett noticed he was dressed more normally, and he had a more rugged look. He looked like he hadn't shaved in a while, his hair was longer too, messy even. He looked tired too, as he opened a bottle and poured the amber liquid in a jug.

When he put the jug in front of her, he spoke. "Katherine Beckett, daughter of Thane James Beckett of the Falkreath Hold. Both parents found dead after a Thalmor attack."

"I see you asked information about me."

He nodded and sat back at his seat. "The Jarl remembered your father. He told me you disappeared when your parents died."

"I ran away from the Elves. I never gave up worshipping Talos, like my parents. They wanted me dead," she replied.

"You could have joined the Stormcloaks," he added. "People like you were always welcome."

"I didn't belive in your war."

High King Castle remained silent for a moment and narrowed his eyes, then he took a sip from his jug. "Why not?"

"Because yours was a crusade for the throne, not for the right to keep worshipping Talos, like you boasted. You wanted the High Throne for yourself, and exploited the White Gold Concordant to do so."

"Many people seems to think it too. I don't really know why though."

"You're on the throne. You're the King now. You got what you wanted."

"Yes, I got what I and thousands of others Nords wanted, we kicked a corrupted Empire reduced to be the puppet of the Thalmor out of Skyrim. I was elected at the Moot, like every other King since the dawn of time."

She chuckled. "You think I believe you?"

He shrugged. "I don't care what you think," he said. "I just want to know how the daughter of a respected Thane became a bandit pillaging caravans."

"Your war destroyed my family. Your war forced me to be a criminal. Those bandits helped me. We just did what we had to survive. With all the due respect, Your Highness, your lust for power made me become a bandit."

Again, he didn't answer. His silence made her feel awkward, as he stared at her from the other side of the table. He slouched on the wooden chair, while she sat upright like a proper lady. That man had used his Thu'um to kill his predecessor, and he was now deciding how to kill her, probably.

"I'm sorry."

That made her jump on the chair. "What?"

"I'm sorry you had to become a criminal because of me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a nation to guide. Guard!" he called. The door opened. "Escort our guest to her quarters, make sure she gets some rest before we leave for Windhelm.."

"What?"

"You're the daughter of a thane. I intend to treat you like one, while I decide if you deserve to die or just sent to the silver mines in Markhart. My Thane, the one you call Dovahkiin, made me notice you never actually killed anyone, the law enforces execution only for murders, but banditism is a crime on the razor's edge. And I have matters to attend in Windhelm, so you're coming with me."

She was confused, to say the least. "But what about my…"

"Your companions are now scattered around Skyrim, paying for their crimes with the sweat of their brows. Rolf of Ivaarstead is in Markhart, he's now a miner. Lod of Dawnstar is back in his hometown, working with the locals to rebuild the Nightcaller Temple. Skaal of Whiterun is back with the Companions, working for free so he pays for everything he has stolen. I can give you their location, if you want to know where they are."

She nodded. "Thank you. I really appreciate it."

"I'll have it delivered as soon as my steward can copy it. Now get some rest, we leave at dawn."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you find an unfamiliar word, it's probably a specific word from the Elder Scrolls lore, from the game Skyrim. You just need to google it to get a better understanding of it.

A guard came before dawn and escorted her to a covered carriage just outside the city wall. The ground creaked beneath her boots, covered in a thin layer of frost. The air was cold and the sky was clear, and she could already see the grey light that came before sunrise, peeking from the mountains in the east. She smiled at the thought of the land of the Dark Elves being the first to see the light, in Morrowind.

"Do you know what matters the King has to take care of in Windhelm?" she asked the guard.

He shrugged his shoulders. "No. The High King and his steward take care of things. We just guard the city for dragons."

"Didn't the Dragonborn take care of them, months ago?"

Another shrug, but this time no answer.

Then the city doors opened, and a large group of heavily armed Stormcloak soldiers came through. Among them, in the center of the group, walked King Richard, dressed in fine traveling clothes, as it is suitable for a king. They stopped and let him move the the carriage, before about two thirds of the escort turned around and walked back inside Solitude. The rest fetched horses from the nearby stables and got ready to protect their King. And his guest.

"I hope you found your accommodations suitable," he stated.

Beckett nodded. "Yes, Your Highness."

He gave her a quick nod, before opening the door of the coach. "Splendid. Jump in, we have a long road ahead of us and I don't want to waste time."

A bit awkward because of the cuffs around her wrists, she jumped on the coach and took a seat on the opposite side. King Richard soon followed her and shut the door behind him. He punched the wall on the side of wagoner and signalled they were ready, then sat on the other side. He pulled the curtain so he could see outside.

"I took the liberty to pack a few things for you, Lady Beckett. I hope you won't find it too intrusive."

"Please, Your Highness, I'm hardly a lady, there's no need to call me that way. And no, I don't find it too intrusive, I actually appreciate the effort."

Another quick nod. "How do you wish to be addressed?"

"My men called me Beckett. It's more than enough for me," she explained.

"Good to know. And you can quit the  _Your Highness_  thing too."

Beckett gave him a strange look. "I find it a little odd, it's your title after all. A title you fought for."

He shook his head. "Not exactly. I've never been one to keep up with old customs, when it came to addressing people. Those closer to me usually skipped the ranks and called me by first name."

"It's not like I'm one of your closest advisors though," she said. "I'm your prisoner."

"You're my guest. Those cuffs are only to keep up appearances." He pulled a key from a pocket, then leaned closer and unlocked the metal shackles. "There you go."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a strange man?" she asked, as she rubbed her aching wrists.

The Kin chuckled. "You'll meet Galmar soon enough."

They talked a lot, during the trip. Solitude and Windhelm were at opposite sides of Skyrim, so they were facing a long journey and needed to keep themselves entertained. While the guards outside did their job silently, the atmosphere inside the coach was animated and jovial. They usually stopped in villages or cities for the night, spending the evenings drinking ale and mead at the local inns and exchanging tales with the inhabitants, but rarely the King and his guest stopped talking, while awake.

Subjects changed often, from war to history to legends and sometimes themselves and their story. Beckett learned a lot about the King, and despite her usual need to keep per private things private, she confided him many events of her life that had shaped her and made her become the chief of a bandit group that had created enough havoc in the hold that only the toughest Khajiit caravans attempted to trade with Solitude for months. That left the city supplies and stock nearly empty, by the time the Dragonborn managed to locate their base of operation and strike them down, capturing them.

She learned that the King was a what people called a True Nord, a man used to survive, more than live, in a nation that had the harshest environment and the hardest lands to plow. She wasn't aware of the fact that before becoming the Empire most wanted rebel, he had been a loyal soldier of the Legion. That, until the Thalmor seized him and tortured him for the Nines only know how long. As a Nord, he was a proud man, he took pride of his ancestors and in his faith in the Nine Divines. Only when the White Gold Concordat forced all the lands of Tamriel to submit to the Altmer xenophobic faction, the Thalmor, and the worship of Talos became illegal and punishable with death, he turned against the Empire.

And before the return of Alduin the World Eater and all his fellow dragons, his intention was to reclaim Skyrim through diplomacy. The dragons and the destruction they brought forced him to move against the Empire and the Thalmor. The fact that the Dragonborn, though Breton, had decided to side with him and help him through the Liberation of Skyrim, well, that had only helped him strengthen his grasp on the land, seizing Hold after Hold, to the point he could conquer Solitude.

"What happened to the Jarls?" asked Beckett.

"They stayed in Solitude, with Elisif for a while. After the Moot, after I was elected, I let them return to their Holds. They're not Jarls anymore, but they were granted the roles of Thanes."

"So they're technically still royalty."

He nodded. "They were never stripped of their titles, that was never my intention. I hoped they would see reason and side with me, but apparently the fear of retaliation was greater than their faith in the Nines. What about you? Why didn't you go and ask the Jarl's help, after the elves raided your home?"

"I did. The Jarl my father served had been deposed, his young and easily manipulated nephew had been appointed successor. He ordered the attack. I was nearly killed on sight when I tried to approach the city."

Castle sighed. "You know, the Dragonborn liberated Falkreath right after Whiterun, reinstating the old Jarl there. You could have gone back, you could have taken back your place."

"I had already been appointed chief of the band. We were doing fine. I saw no reason to go back and maybe find a situation that was worse than what I had left. I was fine with my small band of scoundrels."

He laughed. "Small band of scoundrels? You terrorized a whole hold! May Sheogorath curse me, it took my best men months to find you!"

"But as you said, we never killed anyone. We stole from trading caravans and pillaged farms, but left everyone unscathed. And we actually did some honest work too. Where the Companions were too expensive or the guards too worried about dragons, we dealt with brigands, murderers and other nasty things like ghosts and zombies. All for some supplies, a help with the weapons and a bowl of warm soup."

"I wasn't aware of that."

She shrugged. "We had a reputation to keep up. We had to appear as fearless, ruthless bandits, not the saviors of the poor."

"But if it could be proved and sustained with witnesses, that would surely help you and your mates shorten your sentences."

"You didn't send them to the gallows, or have them beheaded. I think they'll be fine with whatever hard labor you chose for them," she joked.

"What about you?" he asked. "You've been in a cell for two months. And now you are forced to bear the whims of a bitter man that reluctantly accepted the High Throne of Skyrim."

"I wouldn't describe you as bitter. Grumpy, maybe. But not bitter. A bitter man would have killed me and showed my head on a pike, as an example. You kept me alive, well fed, warm and entertained. By the way, I never had the chance to thank you for the books."

"My pleasure. And speaking of books, I was thinking about write down what has happened in the past few years and the events of the Civil War, and you seem one better educated in these matters, would you mind helping me out with that?"

Before she could answer, the carriage came to an abrupt stop. Suddenly, both Beckett and the King felt the coach shake, and his hand went straight to the hilt of sword. "Stay here," he ordered, and opened the door.

"Like hell!" she replied, following him outside. They weren't too far from Windhelm at that point, they were still in the Whiterun hold, where they had spent a couple of days restocking their supplies and allowing the guards and the horses to rest, close to the border with the Eastmarch. That part of Skyrim, a land still in turmoil as it recovered from the Civil War, was supposed to be safe or so they had been told, but nevertheless, they were under attack.

A large group of bandits was shooting arrows at them. Two guards of the convoy had already fallen from their horses and lay, probably dead, on the muddy ground.

Grunting, Castle unsheathed his weapon. "Get back inside," he growled.

"With all the due respect, I repeat: like hell. Permission to gather a weapon?"

"Granted!" he yelled, before he took a deep breath and used his Thu'um to push a couple of bandits away before he launched towards them and pushed the tip of his sword in their chest. Blood spurted from the wounds when he extracted his sword, staining his clothes.

Behind him, Beckett had taken a sword and a shield from a fallen Stormcloak and ran beside King Richard, ready to protect him. She caught a couple of arrows on the wooden shield, the tip of one pierced the barrier and stung her forearm. Not that she cared much.

A bandit with a warhammer charged her and exploiting his slowed down movements to dodge the blow and stick the sword between his ribs. The makeshift armor left them exposed and a skilled fighter like her needed less than that to get rid of an opponent.

Fighting back to back, the High King and the former bandit chief managed to fell most of the assailants, while all the men and women of the escort party were killed. "So much for well trained soldier, Your Highness…" screamed Beckett deflecting an axe blow and then slitting the throat of a woman.

"I'll kick Galmar's ass for this. They were supposed to handle this! FUS RO DAH!"

Glancing behind her shoulders, as she heard his Thu'um she saw three bandits fly backwards. One of them hit a rock and his skull split with a disgusting cracking of bones and squish of brain matter on a sharp ridge. The other two landed in the mud, but Castle reached them fast enough to pin them there with his sword.

Beckett turned around and noticed some movement on a rock not fifteen yards away, behind Castle. One last bandit was arming his bow, aiming at the King.

With a sprint she didn't believe possible with that kind of boots in that muddy soil, she managed to put herself between the archer and the King. The arrow hit her shield with a loud thud, breaking the wood and sticking in her flesh. She whimpered, but didn't allow the archer to know he had hurt her. Instead, she looked down and saw that one of the bandits Castle had killed had a small dagger at his waist. She picked it and with a swift motion, she launched it up and grasped it mid-air by the tip. A split second later, the dagger pierced the archer's throat. Blood spilled from his mouth and he fell from the rock, landing ten feet below.

The King and Beckett looked at each other, heaving for the effort. "What the fuck?" he grunted. "All my men are dead!"

"Yeah, that happens quite often when they're outnumbered three to one," replied Beckett, breaking the tail of the arrow that stuck in her forearm and pulling the rest of it out on the other side. She let the shield go then and proceeded to examine the wound.

"Everything alright?" asked Castle, noticing the blood.

She shrugged. "I've had worse. Through and through, no signs of damage…" she said moving her fingers. "Except for the wound itself. I'll be fine, I just need to cauterize and bandage it. It will heal just fine."

He nodded. "Everything you need should be packed beneath the wagoner's seat. I'll look for it."

"Right. Then what do we do?"

Castle stopped and looked around. "We're closer to Windhelm than Whiterun. Going back is futile and there's a storm approaching. If I'm not mistaken there's an old miner's cottage not half a day from here, right after the March's border, it's abandoned but it still stands. It's used by travelers when in need."

"Alright, let's gather what we can and get there as soon as we can. The wind is getting too chilly for my tastes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I fear this is getting bigger than expected.


	3. Chapter 3

They took care of Beckett's arm first. The arrow wasn't an high quality one, a simple iron tip tied to a stick, it wasn’t even that sharp too. Upon further research, it turned out the majority of the power that broke the shield was caused by the sheer strength of the bow, made of ebony metal. Surely it was a stolen weapon, handed by a less than capable man, thus the little damage he had been able to do.

The King found a small package of first aid supplies beneath the wagoner's seat and with a clean dagger he found in it and a torch, he managed to cauterize her wounds. Then he applied a healing poultice and bandaged her arm. “There, you should be fine in a day or two.”

Once they had got that issue dealt with, they started scavenging the remains of the caravan in order to have more chances to survive a second attack or any other incident they could have encountered on their way to Windhelm.

"I suppose taking the carriage is of limits," he said as he picked a shield still tied to a soldier’s arm.

Beckett nodded. "It would only show us down, and of I know bandits and their strategies well enough, this was just a small part of a bigger group. They’ll come looking for them, when they’ll not be back before sundown.”

"Then let's take what we need. The sooner we arrive in the Eastmarch, the better are our chances to encounter a group of soldiers better trained than our escort."

Silently the moved between the dead bodies, picking up what they thought could be helpful. The bow was the first item Kate picked up, then the arrows. Such a powerful weapon could turn useful, as they could defend themselves from a distance. She filled a quiver with all the arrows she could find, looting both bandits and soldiers, then went looking for some protective gear.

"You should look for some armor too," she stated, as she picked up a pair of worn leather braces.

"You see anything that comes in my size?"

That would have been a problem. Castle was a massive man, way taller than the average Nord, finding something that would fit him would be tricky. Until she spotted a dead Stormcloack soldier, one that had joined their party in Whiterun, that looked as big as him. Struggling with his weight, she managed to take the padded leather cuirass off. "Here," She said, throwing the light armor at him. "It's bloody and grimy, but it will protect you better than simple clothes."

When they thought they were ready to face a possible attack, they went through the supplies packed on the top of the carriage and took what they could need, leaving behind the unnecessary. Food and drinks were packed in saddle bags and loaded on a horse, warm clothes and two bedrolls on another. All the horses were fine and unharmed, so they decided to tie them together so they could lead them to Windhelm. Once ready, they mounted on the two horses leading the lines and silently left the gory scene behind them. Castle had marked the approximate location of the ambush in order to send some troops to retrieve the corpses in order to give them a proper Nord funeral, but without help and with an incoming storm they couldn’t do more than just leave them on the cold wet ground to slowly rot.  

They rode in complete silence, ears trained to pick up the sounds of an impending attack. The area was rich with animals, mostly deers and elks, but predators were common too. And packs of wolves were just as deadly as bandits, and they both knew it.

But as time passed, the cold late autumn sun inexorably started descending behind their backs. A freezing wind blew from the mountains from the perpetual storm that engulfed Winterhold, bringing the scent of snow down from the North. The horses were becoming restless, feeling the impending blizzard. Maybe they'd be lucky enough to be caught in the margin of the storm, but the March in that time of the year was known from the violent and random changes of the weather. What looked like an innocent fluffy cloud could turn in a full blown tempest that could blast the land for hours, leaving only destruction on its wake.

"How far are we?" asked Kate, rubbing her hands together to warm them.

"Not far. We need to keep the Throat of the World on our right and follow the path. We should get there soon enough."

She nodded and they kept going. Finally, about an hour later, they found a weathered signal post that marked the direction of the old mine.

"By the Nines, we made it!" exclaimed Kate as they turned in that direction.

"I told you. Let's hurry, the horses are tired and we need to do a couple of things before we settle for the night."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

The King shrugged. "You'll see."

The cabin wasn't big. It was more of a shack with adjoined stables than a cabin, but it was strong and durable, with stone walls and a roof made of straw spread with tar, to make it waterproof. It looked spartan on the outside, mirroring its interior. There wasn't much inside: the small cabin consisted in a single room with only a couple of chairs, a table, fireplace and cooking supplies, a clothes rack and a double bed with nothing more than some old straw to make it more comfortable and rough furs as blankets. Nothing fancy, but more than enough to restore the heart of a troubled wanderer.

"Hope you don't mind the meagre furnishing, I keep this place open for travelers and hunters in need, it’s not like I can stock it with the best of the best," Castle explained as he closed the door.

Beckett smiled, letting her backpack fall on the floor. "It's still better than my quarters back at the fort, believe me."

He nodded. "Good. I'm going to make sure the horses are warm and fed. You can start the fire, there's everything you need by the fireplace." Then he walked out, shutting the door behind him.

Silently, the woman placed the bow and the quiver next to a chair and using the flickering light of a torch, she got to work. The wood was dry and the tinder excellent, so it didn't take much time. Sooner than she had expected, the fire was burning bright in the stony hearth, lighting the cabin and heating it to a pleasant temperature. Soon the room was warm enough, and Beckett felt like taking off the layers of clothing and armor she was wearing. Gloves and helmet were the first things to come off, then the cloak and the right brace. She kept the left one to protect the healing wound. The cuirass and shin guards were the last items she took off. With the weight of the makeshift armor off her body, Kate finally felt she could relax for a moment. She sat on a chair, running a hand through her hair, and considered her options. The King was out doing Talos knew what, and she was alone, armed and well trained. She could exploit his absence to run away, be free again, but then what? He'd put another both on her head, send the Dragonborn again to track her down and this time kill her, showing no mercy.

She had seen it happen with other bandits before. She might have been the daughter of a respected Thane, but her father's influence had come to an end the night the Thalmor Justicar put a dagger through his heart. She was alone in the world, and only the Nines knew what life had yet to show her.

After all, she had become the respected chief of a feared group of outlaws that had been saved by the Dragonborn herself, as the Breton mage had made Castle notice they had never killed anyone during their scouring of the Haafingar Hold, thus avoiding her a trip to the executioner’s stage. And she was now traveling with High King Richard Castle himself, on their way to Windhelm. And she had saved his life probably six hours before.

Gods sometimes had a weird sense of humor. Or maybe it was some’s Daedra’s doing. Maybe Sheogorath or Sanguine were messing around with her life just for the sake of a good laugh.

Her stream of thoughts bit interrupted when Castle opened the door of the cabin. He carried a large steaming bowl and a small basket in his hands, and his head and souks are covered in a thin layer of snow. "If you need to visit the outhouse I highly recommend you do it now, before we get snowed in. The storm is worse than I expected," he stated. "At least we have a hot stream nearby, in case we need it."

He set the bowl on the table. A pungent smell rose from it, making Beckett smirk. "What's that?"

"Hot spring water. The south side of the March is volcanic soil, hot water springs are common. It's great to warm yourself up, but not potable."

"We could also clean the clothes. We're covered in blood and mud, you know."

"Good idea. Also, I've managed to gather some herbs and mushrooms, all edible. I tried to look for fishes in the pond but I couldn't see much and..."

"Hey, calm down!" snapped Beckett. "You've done more than enough. Come on, we had a rough day, sit down and take the armor off. Between the food from the carriage and what you gathered, we have enough for a few days. Are the horses settled?" He nodded. "Then we're fine. Sit down and relax, I'll fix us something to eat."

Gingerly, the High King took the armor off. "I'm sorry, it's been a while since I had to deal with this kind of things so I get a little flustered about it."

"Don't worry. Most of my men were the same. Great warriors but awful housekeepers. I had to teach them how to feed themselves while out on a scavenging run."

“You know, I can’t actually believe you once led a pack of highwaymen for two years.”

“They were a pack of well trained highwaymen, if you want to know.”

He smiled, scratching his scruffy cheek. The lack of a razorblade suited him, it gave him an edgy look that made him more handsome. Not that he wasn’t a good looking man clean shaven, but after months surrounded by men that weren’t exactly keen on grooming themselves, she had grown accustomed to long beards and hair, to the point she had started preferring that wild look on a man.

The bare thought made her blush, so she returned her attention to the backpack between her knees, looking for something to eat.

“It’s not like we’ve got much, how hungry are you?”

“A lot, but I can go with small rations for some days. The cook at the Winter Palace cooks for a regiment, and I’m all alone there.”

Kate chuckled. “Oh, the High King feels lonely?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I miss my daughter, that’s all.”

“I didn’t know you have a daughter.”

“Well, I tried to keep her out of this thing. Very few people know about her. My mother, my stewart, Galmar… the Dragonborn… the inner circle of the Stormcloack Rebellion, so to speak.”

Kate grabbed a pan from a shelf beside the fireplace and wiped the dust off it. “What about her mother?”

“Meredith? She was killed years ago. The White Gold Concordat had just been signed and worshipping Talos had just been banned. Meredith was a native of Cyrodill but she was devoted to the Nines, not the Eights. The Elves didn’t like it and they made a contract with the Dark Brotherhood to have her killed. Alexis was seven.”

“Oh… I’m sorry, I didn’t know…”

He raised his hand and stopped her. “Don’t worry. Few people know about it. Up until then, I was going to live at their conditions, if it meant to live in peace. It became personal, when that Assassin sneaked in our bedroom and slit her throat while we were sleeping.”

Kate cringed as she stirred the smoked strips of salmon in the pan with a pinch of the herbs he had gathered and a bit of butter. “What happened next?”

“I strangled him with my hands and proceeded to wake up Galmar dressed only in my underclothes and we started planning the Rebellion.”

She took a loaf of bread, split it in half and then cut them in the middle, and poured the stirred fish on the bread slices, making two sandwich. “Here, heat something, you’ll feel better.”

He took the bread and gave an angry bite to it. But as furious as he was, for having brought back those memories he had tried to suppress for years, he couldn't help but moan as he chewed. That simple sandwich was utterly delicious.

“Talos preserves me… this is awesome! Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“My mother was a great cook. We lived in a house by the lake and my father loved to fish. We used to have a full pantry stocked with smoked fish. We ate fish every day ever since I have memories. My mother liked to pick herbs and try to make the fish taste a little different sometimes. That’s how I learned.”

“By the Gods… it’s been a while since I actually ate something that tastes like home. That damn cook only prepares gourmet’s stuff… Is it so bad that sometimes I’d like a seared slaughterfish steak, a bottle of ale and a cabbage salad?”

“That’s pretty much all we ate in winter, back at the fort,” she confessed.

“You know, I’m kind of considering removing the Breton cook and put you in his place. It would be a nice way to pay for your crimes, don’t you think?”

“Nicer than a cell, that’s sure. But believe me, you’d get bored pretty quickly of this type of food.”

He leaned back on the chair, slumping a little bit as he swallowed the last bite. “Nah, don’t think so. This is the type of stuff I always ate ever since I was a kid. I grew up on this, reminds me of a time before all of this mess… before the war, before the Elves came and started treating us like we were the scum of Tamriel… Sometimes I find myself thinking how wonderful it would have been if Martin Septim hadn’t stopped Mehrune Dagon.”

“That would have destroyed Tamriel.”

He nodded. “I know that. But without Tamriel, there would not be this. Nothing. We’d be amazingly ignorant in the void of a different plane of existence. Or none at all. Or maybe Nirn now would be a Daedric plane of Oblivion made real, you know… the stuff nightmares are made of.”

“Damn, you’re weird. You should write philosophy, not history.”

“I’m partial to novels. You know, I might actually write about that serial killer that terrorized Windhelm last summer.”

“Oh, now I want to hear this! Sounds exciting!”

“At one condition only. I’ll tell you the story, but we wash the clothes while we do. I don’t really want to sleep in these dirty rags, and I’m pretty sure if we let the blood dry up we’ll never get the stains out of the fabric. Deal?”

“Deal.” 


	4. Chapter 4

Once the dirty clothes were cleaned and hung to dry close to the fireplace, the High King and the bandit sat silently staring at the flames. Suddenly, both of them felt swept by a wave of weariness and they sort of stopped moving.

Outside the cabin, the wind howled between the mountains and more snow piled up with what had already fallen. From the frosted window, they could see the level of the snow rising steadily as more flakes fell. Soon, they'd be snowed in for real, it's level reaching their hips at least, or if the Gods were merciful enough to make it stop earlier, they'd at least severely impaired in their movements, which meant pretty much the same.

If they had decided to force their way through the storm, they'd probably be dead at that point, or dying.

"You want something to drink?" she asked, breaking the thick but comfortable silence.

Castle shrugged. "'m fine," he murmured. "I'm going to check the horses though, and bring in some snow to melt. We can't keep drinking mead all the time, it'll end sooner or later."

"I'll set up the bed."

As Beckett spread the bedrolls on the rough straw of the bed, Castle donned his cloak and went outside with a large kettle. Once outside, he took a while to inspect the horizon: visibility was reduced to mere meters, and the cabin was secluded, far from the main roads. They were isolated but safe and self sufficient for a some days. The pond also had fishes in them in case they ran out of supplies. And once they decided to move again, Kynesgrove wasn't far, less than a day by horse. Once there, they could restock and from there to Windhelm it was an easy trip northbound.

He took a deep breath, feeling the cold air burn his lungs, and walked towards the stables. The horses were just fine, warm and sheltered from the snow. They had food and clean water, they'd be alright for the night.

He looked for a good spot where the snow was clean and then filled the kettle with snow, pressing it so it could contain more water once melted. By the time the kettle was full to the brim, he was shivering and covered with snow from head to toe. Exactly what he wanted.

For the first time since Meredith had been killed, he felt something stirring inside him. A feeling he thought he had forgotten, that he had decided he wasn't going to feel again. He had blocked pretty much everyone out and away from his heart, his mother and daughter excluded, and he was not intentioned in letting anyone else in anytime soon.

Ever since Meredith had been taken away from him, he had devoted his life to the liberation of his homeland, he had fought nail and teeth to see Skyrim free from the chokehold of a corrupted Empire that couldn't keep it together anymore and was crushing all the regions of Tamriel with taxes and tributes. And everything was now given to the Thalmor, who had declared themselves the master race of Tamriel.

He had managed to do so, and he had planned to go back to his Hold, and be the Jarl Eastmarch needed him to be, concentrated on his territories and his people. Maybe manage to resolve the problem with the Elves, by promoting new, better housings for them and a general clean up of their quartier in Windhelm. They deserved much more than the conditions they were forced to live in by the bigoted racism his fellow Nords sometimes were so happy to show to every non-native of Skyrim they met.

He let out a sigh of discontent. Sometimes his compatriots were just as bad as the Thames, when it came to race.

And yet there he was, the elected High King of Skyrim, stranded in his own Hold by a band of rogues that had killed his men in an ambush. Saved by a criminal that had also cooked him the kind of dinner he preferred and laughed at his lame jokes. A woman that while respecting him so his role demanded had the strength of will to defy him when needed, even mock him. A woman for whom he had started feeling something more than the beginning of friendship in the span of ten days. So long had took them to reach Whiterun. Always together in that cramped carriage, they had spent so much time together and...

He couldn't deny her beauty. Kate Beckett was one of the most beautiful woman in Skyrim, maybe in all Tamriel. The kind of careless beauty that made his heart throb in his chest when he caught her lost in her thoughts, looking out of the carriage window, in the past few days. The last few nights, he had spent more time than acceptable fantasizing about her, not in a decent way, and now they were all alone. Forced together by a weird fate, a cruel twist the God's had thrown on him for the sake of a good laugh. He was falling for her, denying it was futile at that point.

"What a daft prick I am…" he murmured scolding himself, as he turned on his heels and waddled in the snow to get back inside.

Beckett had spread the bedrolls as she had said she would do and was now adding some wood to the fire. "The horses are just fine," he declared, putting the kettle filled with snow near the fire. "And when this melts and boils, we'll have clean drinking water for at least a day." He took the cloak off and hung it to dry near the other clothes.

"Good," replied Beckett. "So? Bed's ready. Tired?"

Suddenly, he felt extremely tired. "Sleep would be nice. I still have to tell you the story of the serial killer!"

"Oh, damn yes! So? What happened?"

He sat on the chair and pulled his boots off, before he headed for the bed and tucked himself in the bedroll. "Well… first a girl died," he started as Kate lay beside him in her own bedsack. "Strange circumstances, weird signs on the body… gory stuff. I let the Captain of the guards take care of it, hoping he would find the culprit soon enough. No such luck. Another dead girl. This time it was worse."

"What happened next?"

"The Dragonborn came to Windhelm."

She chuckled. "By the Nines she's everywhere! The Dragonborn here, the Dragonborn there… does she even have a name?"

"I… I don't know!" he confessed. "I've always called her with her grade in the Stormcloak army. Or Dragonborn, and she always responded to that. She never asked to be called by first name."

"And you let a person you don't even know the name of guide your army?"

"She had killed Alduin, I thought she was qualified."

She gave him a playful jab on the shoulder. "Milkdrinker…"

"What's wrong with drinking milk now? I never got to understand why it is considered an insult."

"How many adults that drink milk to do you know?"

"I do."

She gave him a sideways look that stung. "You? The great warrior, the liberator of Skyrim, High King Richard Castle of the Stormcloaks still drinks milk, at nearly forty years old?"

He shrugged. "It helps me sleep."

"Really?"

He nodded. "Oh yes it does. A cup before going to bed and I sleep like a baby."

Beckett rolled on her side to face him. "Wow... But enough with the milkdrinking, go on, what happened when the Dragonborn arrived?"

"I wasn't in Windhelm at the time. Seems like my steward told her to solve the crime if she could, probably out of pure spite because she isn't a Nord and he's kind of racist, and he wanted to humiliate her. Turned out that following the evidence and speaking to the people in town she managed to solve the murder. A man had gone completely mad and was targeting random women that worked at night, for no reason. She killed him while he tried to kill a woman coming home from her shift at the local tavern."

"No reason?"

"Not that I ever found out, but I suspect it was just plain madness. You need to be completely mad to kill a person that way. By the time I came back from my travels, the murder had been solved and the whole city was acclaiming this puny girl that shot fire blasts so big I had never seen. Only I had met her briefly about three weeks before, when the Greybeards summoned me to High Hrothgar to negotiate a truce with the Empire that would allow the Dragonborn to defeat Alduin, a silent presence that let us scream and shoot curses at each other for hours before we agreed to stop all animosity in order to let her do what she did best: killing dragons. When she later offered her help to kick the Empire out of Skyrim, I sent her to the front lines right away. By Hearthfire, we had conquered Solitude."

"She sounds like a badass," stated Kate. "And a worthy warrior too."

"She is. Her husband is a lucky man."

"And she's married too? Damn, how long did it take her to accomplish so much?"

"About a year. She got married not long before I sent her to capture you. Her husband is a Companion."

"Tall, short hair and broody?" Castle nodded. "He was in the party that captured the fort then. Nice catch."

"What about you? Was there any person you found suitable?" he asked out of curiosity, since they had introduced the matter.

She shook her head and rolled again on her back. "Not really. There was a guy I had an infatuation for, some years ago. Wilhelm, from Markhart. He was a sellsword, stationed in Falkreath's Inn most of the time waiting for someone to hire him. I used to work there during summer, to earn some money when I was younger, long before the war. We had fun, the no strings type on fun, nothing serious though. He went on with his job, haven't seen him in years. You? Still on the market?"

He shrugged. "I had a war to wage, no time for love. And now I have a nation to guide, I've got even less time than before."

"Oh come on, you're still young, everything considered. There must have been at least someone that showed some interest in you!"

Castle could feel the panic rise in his chest at the implication of that question. "Not that I know of, why Beckett? Trying to get in my pants?" he asked, trying to mask his awkwardness.

She chuckled softly. "Hey, we're consenting adults, forced in close quarters together by a snowstorm, you might get cold, you know."

At least she was playing it on the funny side, joking about it. But truth was, he wanted her, badly. And it was taking him all his self control to restrain him from grabbing her and kiss her and do other unthinkable things to her, enough to destroy that old bed. Only the fact that he was dead tired was stopping him. "Would you mind?" he asked, mouth dry and voice uneasy with that irrational far that was clenching his stomach to the point it hurt.

"Mind what? If anything happened between us? Nah, not really. It's been a while for me too and I'm a human with needs. What worries me is you. You have a reputation to hold and bedding a bandit chief still formally under arrest would not be good for it."

"My reputation went down the drain the moment I killed Torygg," he whispered, crossing his arms at his chest.

"So you admit it was a mistake?" she asked.

"I tried to talk to him, to make him reason, let him see how the Thalmor were mercilessly smothering his people and that he was supposed to protect them. He wouldn't listen. He said that he'd wage war against the Empire only as a reanimated corpse. So I challenged him to a duel. He accepted, fair and square. It was extreme, not a mistake."

"But you used your Shout to kill him," she reminded him. "That is not fair in a duel."

"I didn't use the Shout to kill him. I used it to make him stumble. He fell. I killed him with that sword," he replied pointing at the sheathed sword hanging by his belt. "As it is considered fair in a duel."

"So the whole Shouting Torygg to pieces was just propaganda?"

"That I tried to stop for a long time. Can we talk tomorrow? I'm tired now."

She nodded. "As you wish. Goodnight, Your Highness."

They slid deeper in the bedrolls, and Castle turned on his side, facing away from her. "Goodnight."

As the stopped talking, a thick silence fell in the cabin, broken only by the low cracking of the fire and the random whistling of the wind outside.

Both the King and the bandit lay there, motionless, lost in their respective thoughts. The noises around them made it hard to fall asleep, despite being dead tired, and Kate found herself staring at the ceiling maybe an hour after Castle had decided it was time to stop talking.

She took a deep steadying breath and sighed. "I don't understand you, " she whispered.

"What?" he replied, just as softly. He was still awake, just like her.

"Why don't you just kill me? I'm a criminal, I terrorized the Hold for two years, you had the chance to get rid of me but you kept me alive. And you still do! You had months to kill me, you had the chance to make an example for your people, to show them what happens to bandits, and yet I'm here, alive and kicking, and you're sleeping in the same be as I. I don't see the logic."

"I could ask you the same thing. You devoted your life to crime, you blame me for your parents' murder yet you are here. You had the days to kill me and you didn't. I'm here, unharmed and defenceless and yet you don't do anything. You cooked me dinner, for Talos' sale!"

She huffed. "I see no reason to kill you. It wouldn't do me anything good, I don't know the Hold and I'm a criminal, I'd be dead in ten days or less."

"Oh please Kate stop demeaning yourself like this!" he bellowed, turning so he was facing her. "Yes, you committed crimes, I get it. But name a person in Skyrim that has always respected the law down to every single rune that was ever written on the books. You can't. Even the most honest merchant has done some shady dealings, bought stolen goods in order to make a profit. That's why we have the bounty system, or our jails would be filled to the brim with minor offenders and Jarls would be dealing only with petty thefts and small skirmishes over land disputes, to the point real crimes would go unpunished because we don't have the resources to fight real criminals. Hell, we allow the Dark Brotherhood to operate!"

"That's a little different though. They have enough agents to annihilate any Jarl that tries to stop them. But Castle really, I'm a bandit!" She exclaimed. "I stole, plundered, deceived, ambushed and terrified people for two years, how can you not be at least worried that I will not try to escape or hurt you?"

"You have never killed anyone in cold blood. I doubt you'll start tonight," he stated.

The flickering light from the fire made her look smaller and younger than she was. Castle could not help but notice the dark shade her eyes had taken, as he read the doubt and the self loath in them. Kate Beckett was a fierce and worthy warrior, but the harshness of her life and the recent events that had shocked it made her feel inadequate. A feeling Castle knew all too well, experiencing it every single day. They were both leaders, more alike than they thought, in a wayward way, and their responsibilities are huge. People trusted them to lead in the best way possible, but most of the times, being unaware of the hidden secrets of politics, or simply the difficulties of leading a small band of rogues, they were unhappy with their decisions.

The stress they were put through every day was enormous, and they had to look confident in what they did. Sometimes the only way to show confidence was wearing a mask, and Kate's was cracking, showing all her insecurities and fears.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I'm not. I just thought gave trusting you was better than watching my back all the time. Being a paranoid asshole wears me out."

"So you allow me to live because you don't want to get tired?"

He snapped. He lost his self control, in a not so regal way. "Would you prefer it if I told you that I kept you alive because I wanted to fuck you?"

All he got for an answer was a loud growl from the back of her throat, but before he could realize she had moved, she had him pinned to the bed. In the shimmering light that bathed the cabin in its warm embrace, he saw the fire blazing in her eyes. Her slender fingers wrapped around his wrists and she pushed them down on the furs beside his head and straddled his waist, just above the thick leather of the bedroll. "Yes…" she whispered in his ear. "It would make more sense."

She traced her lips on the rough skin of his jaw, eliciting a low rumbling groan from him at the intimate contact, up until she kissed him with a passion and heat he had not experienced ever since his wife had been killed.

"And much more pleasurable."


	5. Chapter 5

It was a messy flurry of clothes being taken off and covers thrown away. They fought to get out of the bedsacks and pushed them off the bed, so they had more room to move. Tunics flew across the cabin, and they wrestled hard to get rid of each other trousers, so unwilling they were to break their heated kiss.

By the Nines she kissed like a goddess. Her lips were so soft he got lost in them the moment they touched his own. Never in his life he had felt that way, yearning the touch of a woman like this. Her hands were scalding his skin as she pushed his undershirt open. She traced the lines of his chest and abdomen, brushing her fingertips over each scar that marred his skin. She smiled as she ran her index finger over a large jagged scar that ran across his chest and down to his side.

"Where does this come from?" she asked, her words reduced to a whisper.

He swallowed the thick lump that had formed in his throat. "The Thalmor, from the time I was an imperial soldier." He slid his hand beneath her white top and pushed it up over her head, uncovering her own set of scars and marks, and his eyes were instantly drawn to a small circular mark between her breasts. "This?"

"A rival, more ruthless bandit gang. We were trying to push them out of the Hold, the major of a tiny village had begged us to help them as they could not afford the Companions. The leader was a good archer."

He sat up, the movement made his staining erection brush against her core. Her moan of pleasure was lost when he kissed her once again, his hands gently holding her jaw and keeping her close. Beckett wrapped her arms around his neck and moved closer to him. "It's gone," She reassured him. "No harm done."

"Is he dead?" She nodded. "Good."

Castle flipped them over so he was on top of her. Beckett giggled at his sudden display of power, and he couldn't help but find it adorable." Have I ever told you that you are extraordinary?"

She rolled her eyes. "Have I ever told you that you are a jerk?"

"A couple of times a day since we left Solitude." "

He leaned down and kissed her again. "Practically since the moment we met. You had that look in your eyes that said:  _what a jerk, with his fancy clothes and his throne_. Or something like that."

"Actually, I was kind of terrified that you would behead me right in the hall, to be honest." She wiggled her hips and reveled in the groan she pulled from his throat. "But we have something better to do that talk about that day, right?"

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she pulled him down and kissed him, hard. She could feel how tense he was, how his muscles rippled beneath his skin as he put great effort and concentration in what he was doing. She let one hand wander down his spine, tracing the bones and finding more scars on his skin, until she wrapped her fingers around the string that kept his loincloth in place and pulled it. It fell around his hips. She proceeded to do the same with her own. They were both naked now.

With nothing between them, Castle stiffened even more. She couldn't help but be a little worried.

"Hey…" she whispered as she ran her fingers through his hair, wiping away the sweat from his brow. "Are you alright?"

He gave her a minute nod, but then he let out a long strained breath and rolled off of her, pulling one of the furs on them both to shield their bodies from the cooling air of the shack. "No…" he huffed. He hid his eyes in the crook of his elbow, throwing his arm over his face. "No, I'm not alright."

Beckett rolled on her side, propping her head on her hand. The other wrapped around his wrist and tried to move it away from his face, in order to read his emotions a little better. He didn't budge, as if he was ashamed of something. "Castle, you're making me worry here."

He groaned. "There's nothing to worry about. It's just…" he trailed off.

"Just what?"

He took a deep breath. "You're the first woman I feel something for ever since my wife was killed. Seven years ago."

"I'm kind of flattered but what does that mean?"

Another groan, this time deeper and longer. "It means that I haven't had sex in seven years and now I feel awkward and inadequate, like a teenager at his first time."

"Oh…" There wasn't much else to say. And to be honest, she kind of understood his point of view. And his feelings. It had been a while for her too. "You want to stop? Would it make you feel better?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry, I feel like an idiot," he mumbled.

"I think it's kind of cute," she replied, sneaking closer to him and laying her head on his shoulder.

"Now you're making fun of me."

"Never in my life, I don't want you to Shout me out of the window," she joked. "But really, if you don't want to, we can stop." She highly doubted that he wanted to stop, considering the definite tenting in the cover at the level of his groin.

He finally moved his arm away from his eyes and shook his head. "What if I don't want to stop, but I feel like I'm not good enough?"

"Let me judge that."

Repeating her move from not long before, she straddled his waist once again, topping him. The fading light from the dying fire made him look like a child, as he stared at her wide eyed and slightly confused.

The look of pure wonder on his face was inebriating, or made her feel powerful and once again in charge, a feeling she had grown accustomed to since she had been elected chief of the gang.

She missed it, but this new found dynamics a was definitely better. To be honest, she was way better at sex than at fighting. And she was a damn good fighter.

"Relax Your Highness, let me take care of you tonight."

"Kate you don't have to," he whispered against her lips.

"I know." He let out a pitiful wail when she grabbed his painfully hard erection and sunk onto it. She grit her teeth at the sudden intrusion. No matter how aroused she could be, it had been years for her too, and she had underestimated his size.

High King? Huge described him better.

"But I want to," she continued, staring straight into his eyes.

"You alright?" he asked as he slowly caressed her lower back.

She nodded, briskly. "Yeah just... give me time. It's been a while for me too."

Slowly, carefully, almost reverently, Castle day up straight and faced her. She shivered when he ran his hands up her back to her neck and face. His thumb on her lips made her sigh contently. "I'm here Kate, don't rush it, take your time."

"By the Nines I think I needed a little more foreplay..." she chuckled.

He smiled. "Sorry."

"Not your fault. I was a little too eager to please." Beckett rested her forehead against his. "Now I wonder where your feelings of inadequacy come from."

"Believe me, that feeling has nothing to do with my equipment," he replied, a sly tone in his voice. "Feel better?"

She nodded. "A little. Damn, I underestimated you."

"Admit it, you underestimated me in many more ways than this!"

Rolling her eyes, she nodded again. "Alright, I'll admit it. I thought you were a pompous ass with an over inflated ego, capable only of wage war. But… really, can't we find another time to talk about this?"

She moved her hips just enough to make him whimper. "Yes, definitely. Mind if we… do something about this predicament?"

She gave him a small kiss. "Of course, Your Highness…"

* * *

Awkward and inadequate?

More like awesome and incredible!

Despite being exhausted, Beckett couldn't sleep. She was too wired to let go and fall asleep, so she lay in her bedsack, on her side facing the King, who was peacefully abandoned to his dreams, an arm behind his head as a pillow. He was breathing heavily, almost snoring, and he looked relaxed and peaceful. The opposite of what he looked when awake, when he had to appear like the strong guide of Skyrim all the time.

He was kind of cute, she had to admit it.

And he had worn her out, completely. Once the initial embarrassment dissolved, he turned into a beast. Well, not literally. He wasn't a werewolf, or at least he didn't appear to be one, but damn, he was really good in bed. And those seven years he claimed he hadn't had sex with any woman? Seemed like they had never passed.

He fucked like a god.

It had been an escalation of pleasure. If the first time was slow and soft, just to take off the rust of so many years spent just by themselves without a partner, round number two and three were groundbreaking. He had made her gasp, whimper, writhe and scream, not necessarily in that order, for hours before they both collapsed, totally worn out. He had managed to fall asleep, but the images of that night kept playing in her mind every time she closed her eyes and more than once she found herself blushing at the thought.

Most of all if she went back at the memory of their third time when in throes of passion he had flipped her on her stomach and taken her from behind. Never in her life she'd had a stronger orgasm. She was a step from passing out on that occasion.

And there she was, unable to take her eyes off his chiseled, scruffy jaw, slack with sleep and listen to his light snoring while the light from the fireplace slowly faded and shack fell into darkness.

Sighing, she turned on the other side, trying to shove the distracting sight of his naked upper half of his body in the back of her head so she could finally close her eyes and rest for some hours. Her movement must have roused him, because he rolled on his side too, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her back to his chest.

"Sleep, Chief Bandit," he whispered in her ear.

His voice made her shiver. "As you wish, High King."

He chuckled and pressed a long, soft kiss to the nape of her neck. "Cut the royalty crap, Beckett. At least when we're naked in bed."

"Why? Outside I'm allowed to address you with your title?"

"More like compelled by the etiquette. I highly doubt Firebeard would accept a lowlife bandit calling the High King by first name."

She chuckled. "I wasn't a lowlife bandit an hour ago!" she laughed.

His other arm sneaked beneath her neck and he wrapped it around her shoulders, and kept her even closer to him. "You're not a lowlife bandit. More like a victim of adverse circumstances. And while I know your story, he doesn't. And he might not appreciate this."

"Does he have to know?" she asked, entwining her fingers with his.

"Not necessarily. But if we want this to continue…"

She gasped. "Castle, let's not over think this, alright? It's not like you'd be allowed more than sex with me."

"What do you mean?"

"You said it before. Etiquette. You're the King, I'm a criminal. It wouldn't be accepted."

She felt him shrug his shoulders, behind her. "Do you want this to be a one night thing?"

The one million septim question. But denying it was futile, at that point. "No. I don't want it to be a one night thing. I don't work that way."

"Then to hell with etiquette. I'm the High King for fuck's sake, I make the rules in Skyrim. And I'm an adult. I can decide what's good for me. And right now, I think you're good for me."

"Oh please don't go all corny on me! You sound like a Breton!"

He shivered at the comparison, she felt it against her back. "Never, ever, call me a Breton. With all the due respect, I'm a Nord and I'm proud to be so."

Beckett jabbed him with her elbow. "I know, that's why I said it. Sleep now, we'll deal with everything once we're safe in Windhelm."

"We might be trapped here for a while, are you sure you don't want to deal with this sooner than that?"

"Mind if we just enjoy the fact that here we're free from all the obligations of court and whatever? You know, once we're in Windhelm, you'll send me straight to the first available cell."

His hold on her tightened. "Don't be so sure about it. After all, you saved my life, and this means I have all the rights to pardon every crime you committed."

"You're making that up, right?"

He shook his head. "No, it's the law. Thanes, Jarls and in my case Kings are allowed to give pardons to criminals, if they do something to fix their crimes. And you did more than that, you even prepared dinner for me!"

"Oh come on, if you consider that something that fixes being the scourge of merchants for two years, you're thinking with your penis."

"Probably," he pulled one of the furry covers above them to shield them from the cooling air. "But seriously, sleep now. We'll deal with the bureaucracy when we have to."

"As you wish."

Strange enough, as soon as she tried, she managed to relax just enough and she finally fell asleep.

She hadn't slept that good ever since she still lived in Falkreath Hold, since before the war. And it was all because of the same man that caused the death of her parents and her downfall. She had turned to crime because of Castle and she was now quickly drifting off to sleep in his arms. And she had sex with him.

Three times.

The best sex of her life.

Sheogorath had clearly cursed her. And Sanguine was feasting on her soul. Daedric princes loved to throw that kind of crap on humans, and apparently they had targeted her. Or them.

Before she was finally dragged in the lands of Vaermina, the Daedric Goddess of sleep, she couldn't help but wondering where that path would lead her.

And considering the path her feelings had set her on, she dreaded the answers.


	6. Chapter 6

They spent the next five days stuck in the cabin. The morning after the blizzard, snow had reached their waist and the roads were unusable, therefore they decided not to dare the Gods and stayed in there, warm and, for the time being, fed.

Not that they had much to do but talking and having mind blowing sex all the time, but at least they had something to do. They tended the horses twice a day, made sure they had water and food, and the rest of the day was spent in each other company. It was a good chance for them to get to know each other even deeper, and the matters of their discussions kept jumping, meaning they never had a dull moment.

They even dared to take a walk around the shack one day, not going very far but enough for Beckett to see a little more of the southern part of Eastmarch. Kate had never ventured further East than Whiterun Hold, so she had never seen Eastmarch, Winterhold in the north or The Rift, down in the south. Castle told her about the history of his land, the geography and the folklore. It was a secluded area, but rich with tales and beauty, a great valley swallowed by mountains, with the Throat Of The World, highest peak in Skyrim, taking vigil on them. He told her that sometimes, at night, if the sky was really, really clear, from the window of his bedroom he could see the lights of High Hrothgar, and the great fires the hermits there could breathe out like dragons.

She learned a lot about his homeland, but most of all she learned how deeply he loved it. His motives to wage war against the empire were a lot clearer now than they had been only a fortnight ago. But as much as they talked about history and lore, Castle was extremely proud of the natural hot springs that randomly appeared in that area. Apparently, it was common for hunters from all around Skyrim to hunt in the region and sometimes give up the chase of the occasional elk or deer and relax for a moment in those natural hot pools, and they enjoyed that chance too. There was one right in front of the cabin, and one afternoon, as the sun shone brightly above them, they just shed their clothes and jumped in. They splashed around for hours, enjoying the hot water and fooling around like teens with no other worry in the world but to live their life before the responsibilities of adulthood took over them. It was also the same afternoon that allowed Beckett to finally have the chance to use the recovered bow and kill a hare that passed by the pool. With Castle's always useful knowledge of the local herbs, a juicy dinner was served.

But after the blizzard, sun shone every day, and the warmed air slowly but constantly melted the snow. The morning of their fifth day in the cabin, Castle woke up alone in the ruffled bed, only to find Beckett standing in front of the window wrapped in one of the furs, looking outside.

"Hey there, Bandit Chief," he said softly. "You woke early."

She nodded. "Yeah… a rogue ray of light. Slept well?"

"You wore me out yesterday, I slept like a baby."

"Good to know." She took a deep breath. "I think we should move."

"Food's getting scarce?"

"No, it's not that. It's just… you're the High King and you've been missing for days now. Don't you think it's time we go to Windhelm and let them know you're safe and sound?"

"I suppose it's time but… I have to say I kind of like it here."

She groaned. "Castle, you can't be serious. You can't be thinking about shacking up with me just after what? Five days of sex and nothing else?"

"Kate… nothing else? You're aware of the fact that like… most of the things I've told you in the past fifteen days… not even my wife knew them?" he told her sitting up straight. "Kate… I've never felt so at easy with anyone, you're a person I can talk to and you won't just hold back your opinions just because I'm the King."

"Well, I thought you were going to behead me, I figured I could afford to be a little shameless. But seriously Castle… what are we? Where are we going?"

Shaking his head, he got out of the bed and donned them before he walked up to her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her towards him. "We're going wherever we want to go. Wherever you want to go."

"What if I want to go all the way there? What if I fell in love with you and I think you're my one and done?"

"Then by Mara's merciful eyes we're going to Riften and we're going to get married! Just say the word and I'll take care of it. I don't care what other people say or think!"

Beckett laid her head on his broad chest and sighed. "I don't know Castle… I'm not... "

"I get it. You're confused. So am I. Let's take it easy, alright? One step at a time. First and foremost, Kynesgrove. It's less than a day on horse from here and once there, arriving at Windhelm it's a matter of hours. We can rest at the inn there for the night and then travel to the city. Like the idea?"

She nodded. "Now I see why they elected you at the Moot. You're a good ruler."

"I like to think so. Come on, we've got a long way to go."

They quickly gathered their things in their backpacks and saddled the horses. Less than an hour later, they were on the road again. Snow was still high and the horses proceeded slowly and carefully, but they were steady and kept a decent rhythm. A little bit after sundown, they had reached Kynesgrove, a small settlement quite close to Windhelm. They could have traveled at night, if they purchased lanterns, but the horses were tired, and so were they.

A stable boy took care of the animals, while a kind, middle aged woman and her daughter served them at the inn. Although the day was warm and sunny, as soon as the sun went down, the air became freezing. They ate their meal by the fireplace, happy to finally feel some heat on their skin. The soup was a pleasurable divergence from the diet strictly made of beef jerky and smoked fish or roasted meat they had been eating for five days straight, and a clean bed with real bed sheets was a most welcome sight, when they decided to retire in the room they rented.

Even the small breakfast, made of warm milk, buttered bread and snowberry jam, as meager and simple as it was, gave them taste of something warm and familiar, something that had long been absent in their lives for different reasons.

They paid their fee and gathered their things, and once they had paid for the horses care, they were once again traveling to Windhelm.

They arrived a couple of hours after midday.

"I swear I'm going to kill Galmar," snapped Castle as they finally spotted the walls of the city.

"Why would you kill your housecarl and second in command?"

"You saw the troops that came with us! Good to nothing! And not even a patrol on the roads? What the fuck… I'm going to kick his balls so hard he'll spit them and swallow them again. He should be in charge of the Hold while I'm gone!"

They approached the walls and the main door. A guard came out of a post and approached them. "Oy, stop there! Where are headed?"

"I'm High King Richard Castle, open the door," ordered Castle.

"If you're the King, I'm a mage," said the guard, sarcastic. "Come on, where are you going?"

Castle, furious, took the Stormcloak helm off and showed his face, completely. Though unshaven and with his hair matted by lack of soap and five days spent living like a miner, in an old, dirty miner cabin, he was pretty recognizable. The guard paled as he realized his mistake, he turned around and waved at his colleagues to open the massive door. Castle slid off the saddle and waved at Beckett to do the same. They would proceed on foot.

Carrying as much of their baggage they could, they walked in the city. Castle strode proudly in the streets, and was hailed by the population of his city. The guards stopped to bow at him, and Beckett couldn't help but notice a slight change in his behavior. He had worn a mask, ever since that guard had stopped them at the door. He was again the King, so much different from the man that had picked herbs and mushrooms to cook with the hare, or the man that had spent an afternoon telling her about how his father had taken him on long walks or rides up and down the Hold, or about the time he had spent at High Hrothgar, where he had learned the first steps of the Way Of The Voice and had studied the Thu'um.

This was Richard Castle, the King. The mask.

The man she had learned to know at the cabin and during the trip was Rick, beloved father and son and sweetest man on Skyrim.

They were so different it almost scared him.

As they reached door of the Palace of Kings, where the Jarl of Eastmarch ruled, he roughly pushed the door open. As the heavy reinforced wood moved on its hinges, he dropped the heavy backpack on the stony ground and straightened his shoulders. When the door was finally completely open, his face was the mask of fury.

"Galmar Stonefist!" he shouted. His voice, charged with its power, echoed against the high ceiling and the walls. "Where the fuck are you?"

Every head in the room turned towards the door. "Richard!" A tall, armor-clad man with an unruly mane of graying hair said from the throne. "You're alive!"

"Fuck yes I'm alive, and not because of the men you trained so well!" shouted the King as he walked towards his housecarl. "They're all rotting beneath the snow, on the road to Whiterun! Slaughtered like toddlers! They should have been trained soldier and they all died by the hands of mangy bandits!"

"Richard I… I don't know what to say but… you've been missing for days where have you been?"

"Walled in by at least four feet in a miner shack just south of the main road here!" He punched the table at his side. "And I was lucky enough Kate was with me! She helped me and protected me, far beyond her duties as a guest!"

She moved her weight from a foot to the other, suddenly feeling awkward and out of place, as he talked about her as a guest, not as a prisoner.

"Richard… calm down! I'll take care of it, why don't you go upstairs and meet your daughter, I'm sure she's dying to see you."

He had just finished speaking when Castle heavy fist landed on his face, sending him slumping on the throne, with a bloody nose and a rapidly forming bruise covering his cheek and part of the forehead. Then the King grabbed the lapel of his tunic and dragged him off the chair. "You better take care of it as soon as you can, and do it well, because if the Thalmor come to conquer us once again, I want an army that can fight back, not one made of brawlers and inexperienced sellswords picked up at inns down the road!"

With that, he let him go and waved at Kate to follow him. "Come with me Kate…"

He left a moaning and bleeding housecarl behind and walked to a small door in the wall on their right. His steps were heavy and filled with anger, echoing as his voice as he strode to the doorway. He pushed it open and moved to let her pass, before he closed it with a loud slam that startled her. "Go upstairs, the private apartments are up there," he said, barely containing his rage.

"Was it really necessary, to beat him like that?"

He gave her a curt nod. "He was supposed to handle the Hold in my absence and teach my daughter how to rule. He's my second in command and I trusted him to rule as I would, instead he reduced security out on the roads. Before the war, hundreds of my men would patrol roads and be stationed in small villages like Kynesgrove, and I sent more when the threat of the dragons came, to protect my people. Have you seen a patrol out there? Or even a soldier stationed in the village?" She shook her head. "That was outrageous. He should have protected our people with able men, he was the one responsible for the training of our soldiers and he failed on all fronts. This is not the first time he betrays my trust and all this time I let it go because he's my friend… but when it comes to protecting the populations, I accept no excuses. I'll change the patrolling schedules as soon as I get out of these sooted clothes."

Definitely a man worth to be king.

But as he walked, his step echoed less, they were lighter and not as noisy. The noise of the heavy boots was replaced by a more normal thud and the clinking of his armor. He was calming down to meet his daughter.

They found her in a small parlor, more of a niche carved in the stone than a real room, sitting at a table with a candle shedding some light over a piece of parchment as she wrote something with a quill. Alexis Castle was a fourteen years old teenager, her beauty blossoming like wild flowers in springtime. Fiery red hair, bright blue eyes and a round face that would make queens and regals envy all over Tamriel, she looked poised and at ease even if her father was missing, for what she knew.

Beside her, an older women, another redhead was reading a leatherbound book. His mother, she deduced, given the stark resemblance. Their eyes were pretty much the same shape and shade, in all of them. She looked extremely at ease in her chair, as she read, and Kate couldn't help but notice that even if she was probably in her sixties or maybe older, she had something that exceeded beauty. Castle's mother was elegant and captivating.

"What the hell! I come home and my own daughter doesn't come to greet me?" he bellowed, startling all three women in the room, Beckett included.

Both redheads turned their heads towards them and smiled brightly as they saw Richard. His daughter sprung from the chair and and leaped in his arms, not caring about the grime and the filth that covered his armor, nor the fact that he reeked like a dirty stable.

Not that Kate was in a better condition, but no one was hugging her so tight her breath was cut off her lungs, like Castle was hugging his daughter.

"I thought you were dead!"

"Because I was gone for two days longer than expected?" he said, finally releasing her. "Hey Pumpkin, everything is alright, I'm a grown man I can survive an ambush!"

"An ambush?" asked both Alexis and his mother.

"Yeah, long story short on our way here we were ambushed by a party of rogues. The soldiers escorting us died and we had to take care of ourselves, the blizzard forced us to take refuge in one of those abandoned miners shacks down the road, that's all," he quickly explained. "We moved as soon as the snow melted enough for us to move."

"Us?" asked his mother.

"Oh yes… I had a guest with me… Mother, Alexis…" He gently put his hand on Kate's shoulder and pushed her to step ahead inside the room. "This is Lady Katherine Beckett, from Falkreath. Her father was Jarl Dengeir's thane, but he was killed by a Thalmor party some years ago. Kate escaped the attack and took refuge in the mountains in Haafingard. She recently decided to come back to the civil world."

Alexis shook her head. "Dad, a messenger from Firebeard came ten days ago. He wrote you were travelling with a convicted bandit. Don't make up stupid stories with me, I know all your tells."

Kate sighed. "I'll go back downstairs and wait to be escorted to the dungeon."

"No!" snapped Castle, startling them all once again. "You paid for your crimes by saving my life. No more time in dungeons, you've spent enough time down there in Solitude."

"Richard, are you sure? Firebeard won't take it well."

He nodded. "To hell with Firebeard. He can't control every aspect of my life!"

"What's going on here?" asked Alexis.

"Your father fell in love with a bandit, that's all," stated his mother, no hint of scolding in her voice.

Kate wanted to be swallowed by a gate of Oblivion. That was even more embarrassing than that time she was caught with Wilhelm by the innkeeper, back at Falkreath.

But contrary to her expectations, Alexis laughed. "For Mara's sake, finally! About time!"

"Alexis I…"

"Dad, really! I've been moping around the Castle ever since mom was killed!" said the teenager. "It's been seven years, any other man would have married again by this time!"

That girl was the picture of pragmatism. The daughter of the land she lived in.

Her grandmother nodded. "She's right, Richard. But… this is not the time discuss something like this, not when you're both covered in blood, mud and Talos knows what else. Go in the kitchen and have something to eat, I'll have the bath house ready for you in an hour. Go, go now!"

She basically shoved them out of the door and to the stairs again.

Castle, for the first time since she'd known him, was speechless.

"Well… that was something…" he said as they walked down to the kitchen.

"Something? Castle, your mother and daughter basically want us to get married tomorrow!"

He smiled. "I can send a message to Riften first thing tomorrow, and have it ready in a week, if you want."

"Oh for Talos' sake, Castle! Get a grip of yourself and stop thinking with your dick! Or your stomach… damn, I'm hungry!"

He chuckled. "Then I'm happy to present you the best chef in Skyrim."

"Who?"

He turned around and waved at Alexis. "My daughter."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Errata corrige: I messed up. The Palace in Solitude is not the Winter Palace, that's in St. Petersburg, Russia. The Palace in Solitude is called the Blue Palace and it will be addressed as such from now on.

**Chapter 7**

The kitchen was warm and dimly lit, the only light source was the huge fireplace on the wall opposite to the entrance. It had a large rack with pot and kettle hangers, roasters. grids and grill. Beside it there was a large stove with a kettle blowing steam. Kate supposed the cook was already preparing dinner for the inhabitants of the palace. Two long tables and relative benches lined in the middle of the room, cluttered with pots, bowls and plates full of vegetables and big pieces of raw meat ready to be roasted or stewed or grilled. On the wall there was another grid with fishes already gutted and bones, just waiting to be cooked.

Cooking with Skyrim's materials required some spirit of adaptation, as the harsh climate didn't allow much to grow. Cabbage, leek and potatoes were the main ingredient of many recipes, coupled with the more than abundant fish and meat from both game and livestock. Bretons and Imperials coming from High Rock and Cyrodil, places where the weather was milder and much more generous, found it hard to adjust to the Nord way of life. Some fought nail and teeth to plant carrots and tomatoes in the cold, sometimes frozen solid ground. Some of them were lucky, most of all those that resided in the southern holds, like the Rift or Falkreath, but most of them failed miserably and ended up turning their fields in wheat crops, which grew perfectly fine.

But many Nords were just as stubborn as Skyrim and some had managed to come up with intricate systems that would allow them to grow vegetables that required milder temperatures. Alexis was one of them.

As her father and Beckett sat tiredly on the bench closer to the hearth to warm up a bit, she cooked and told them how she had managed to turn one of the abandoned gardens in the back of the palace into a small greenhouse, taking inspiration from some books her mother had left in the library. The court wizard, Wuulferth, helped her by enchanting some of the construction materials so they would radiate heat and help the greenhouse keep a constant temperature, even when winter would come. Up to that moment she had successfully grown a small crop of tomatoes and the carrots were growing too. She counted on making the Palace self sufficient in order to cut expenses aimed for importing food from Cyrodil.

"You talk like a Stormcloak," said her father as she moved between pots and pans, with the agility of a sabre cat.

"Just because I want to help with the finances? Dad, I'll be Jarl of the March, one day of another. It's time I try to do something for my land."

He chuckled. "By the way Galmar has been working lately, you'd be ruling the Hold way sooner than I thought. Is he been treating you well?"

She shrugged. "He treats me like your daughter. Nothing more, nothing less. He's not a good teacher though."

"I gathered that. I was thinking you could come with me to Solitude, next month when I go back. That way you'll see what you'll have to do in a couple of years. After all, being High King is not much different than being a Jarl, it's just a bigger cauldron."

"That would be a great idea, but who will rule Eastmarch if we're both gone?" asked the teenager.

"Good question... " He mused for a long, silent moment. "I bet any of the thanes will be ready to jump in as a stand-in, for some months."

"Dad, we both know that the only thane you have that's good enough to rule the March is Vivienne, and I doubt she'll just give up being an adventurer to slouch on a throne all day and night."

"Vivienne?"

"Dad… the Dragonborn… her name's Vivienne."

"And so the mystery of the Dragonborn's name is solved," exclaimed Kate, a bright smile on her face. "Your father kept mentioning her only by her title, I was really curious to know her given name."

"I know. He never bothered to ask her name. She's Vivienne Elize De La Serre, daughter of a small noble from High Rock. She was trying to cross the border into Skyrim to join the Stormcloaks when the Empire caught her. The same day they caught you trying to sneak into Cyrodil after you killed Torygg, dad."

He rubbed his face with his hands, roughly. "Alexis, there's no need to tell Kate about that."

"About what?" asked Kate.

"About Helgen." Right in that moment, his daughter presented them two bowls of steaming clam and potato stew. They were so hungry they forgot about the tale Kate was about to ask him to tell her, and they just dove into the stew.

It was one of the best chowders Kate had ever tasted. Thick enough, with plenty of fresh clams and no traces of sand. The spices Alexis had added made it just perfect, the tinge of pepper every spoonful left in the back of her mouth was sublime.

After that, came a large platter with juicy grilled horker steaks, slices of different cheeses, grilled leeks and stir fried cabbage and sweet-sour onions. Bread was already sliced on the table, with more available if needed.

"Damn, it's been so long since I had a decent horker steak, you have no idea how much I love this. Alexis, you're the best cook in the world!" commented Kate, halfway through her large slab of grilled meat.

"Not the best, but I like the craft, and I have to say horker steak is one of my favourite dishes so I really like to prepare it," she replied. "By the way, thank you for feeding my father. He gets cranky when he doesn't eat."

"I don't get cranky, I'm just a big man that needs to eat a lot, that's all. By the way, you two should definitely team up one day or another. Kate's an excellent cook too."

The former bandit waved his compliment off. "I know how to keep myself alive with what I have. Nothing else. She's the good cook, I just know the bases."

"Well, if dad says you're good, you must be. He's extremely picky with food, most of the time to satisfy him means cook pretty much the same dishes over and over again because he's so picky. But if you want to, one of these days we could really prepare something together, I'm sure we can pull something off," said Alexis. Her bright smile was blinding, as if a huge torch had been lit in her eyes.

Kate nodded. "Alright, just let me get out of these clothes and let me sleep on a real bed for a full night then we'll talk about cooking."

"Deal. Now eat, before the steak gets cold and as hard as a slab of stone."

Once they finished their meal, Martha barged in the kitchen. "The bathhouse is ready, if you two want to wash off the grime. By the Nines Richard, you haven't smelled that bad ever since Helgen."

"Now you have to tell me what happened in Helgen," stated Beckett.

He shook his head. "Alright, I'll tell you. Just… let us go downstairs. I can't stand these clothes any longer."

Castle and his mother escorted her beneath the palace, down a short maze of narrow corridors. She noticed that the air around them had become hotter and more humid. Once Castle opened a door, she was let in a large natural cave; the walls had been dug by what looked like a hot water spring. In the soft glow of wall sconces, she noticed that in the middle of the room there was a huge tub filled with steaming water, constantly filled by a small stream. About the same amount of water exited the cave through an artificial drain dug in the stone. All around the tub were lined stone benches, finely sculpted wooden screens to allow some privacy when getting rid of clothes, racks and shelves filled with small, colourful bottles, cosmetics probably. The room was hotter than the warmest Skyrim summer and she found the heat incredibly invigorating, maybe because of the persistent scent of mint and mountain flower that permeated the room.

"Wow! I had no idea such a thing was possible."

"Actually, the whole palace was built around this spring. The first Jarl thought it would have been nice to have a private hot water tub. The same spring gives water to pretty much every major building in the city, and I'm working on making some plumbing modification to have hot water delivered to the Elves quarter too. It takes about an hour for the pool to be filled, and it can be emptied any time. Nice commodity, considering how hard it is to boil water for a bath, in winter."

"Oh, definitely," replied Kate, looking around.

Behind them, Martha cleared her throat to get their attention. "Now, I've made arrangements for both of you to have clean clothes, boots and towels. There are toiletries and soaps on that shelves, all hand made by our best alchemist, pick the ones you prefer. Stay here as long as you want, you're not needed in the throne room until tomorrow morning. Now, dear Katherine…" she shuddered as his mother used her complete name, as no one ever used it. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me and ask for it, clear?"

She nodded. "Clear, ma'am. Thank you for your hospitality, I really appreciate it, considering my past."

The older woman smiled, as brightly as her granddaughter. "My dear, you brought back a smile on my son's face. He has been miserable for years after poor Meredith was murdered, and you took that misery away. I don't care if you're a noble, a merchant or a bandit, you'll always be welcome in this place, as long as I live. Now, children, I'll leave you to your ablutions."

And she walked out of the room. "Was she serious?" she asked.

"Dead serious," he replied. He pulled off his soiled tunic and let it fall on the floor. His boots followed soon. "Come on, let's get in that pool before the dirt start sticking on our skin like hanging moss on a rock."

The pool was heaven on Nirn. The water was just the right temperature to be hot but not scalding. Just what they needed after days spent days paying close attention on how much wood they had, sometimes forgoing lightning the fire for fear of finish all the wood. Those had been cold days.

"By the Gods I could get used to this," she murmured, leaning against the stone seat, water lapping at her neck.

"I'm working on building something similar in Solitude too. If there's something I've learned by having an Imperial wife, is that running water helps greatly warding off diseases."

"Is there a spring even there?"

He nodded. "Yes, but it's not a hot water spring. But with the right plumbing system and some enchantments, we could build a system that brings hot water to every house in the city. That way, people would be more inclined to bathe."

"And better hygiene means less diseases. I get it."

"And, to be honest, a slightly better smell when you talk to someone. There are days I have to push Galmar in here and force him to wash himself and his clothes, because I can't stand the stench."

She chuckled. "The perks of being high born. Rich people are more used to wash themselves. Soldiers and commoner tend to pay more attention to the quality of their food, more than the smell of their bodies."

He snorted. "Some of them don't even care about that. There are enough beggars around any city or village that will eat even rocks if they would fill their stomach. Damn… Skyrim is a mess, and there's little I can do to fix it."

Beckett watched as she slid underwater for a few seconds, as if he was trying to hide from her. When he emerged, his hair was plastered to his forehead and the way he was gasping made him look extremely funny and definitely not a king.

"Why can't you fix it?" she asked.

He moved his hair away from his eyes, sticking them back on his head. "Because being High King doesn't mean much. Jarls hold all the control. They elected me at the Moot so I would be a useless representative of an order that doesn't exist anymore. Yes, I can make laws, I can move war against another nation, I can order Jarls to do things, but it's up to them to obey me. It's their loyalty to the king that makes them obey or not. I don't want to  _force_ them to obey me. I don't want to turn Skyrim in a military enforced nation."

"I thought all the Jarls were devoted to you, now."

"At the moment, they are. But who knows what will happen in the future." He looked far into the distance as he got lost in his thought. "I've been thinking of what this war has done to Skyrim and I have to admit that in hindsight, I just made things worse."

She chuckled. "Ah, the wisdom of hindsight…"

He nodded. "Yes, yes I know. I was an idiot. But I'm trying to fix the mess I've made. I'm trying, at least, many High Kings that seized power by killing the former king just slouched on that throne and did nothing more than gorge themselves in food and mead until they died, or were assassinated themselves."

"You know… in the past few weeks I've got to learn to know you and I have decided that I was wrong about you. For years I thought you were nothing more than an inbred idiot that acted like a dick just because you had the money and some people blind enough to follow your gibberish words about freedom and the old traditions. I thought you were a racist bastard that wanted Skyrim to be inhabited only by men, I thought you were going to kick elves and orcs out of Skyrim, if you won. That's why I didn't join the Stormcloaks."

Castle laughed and splashed water all around them. "Well, nice to know the truth!"

She splashed him a little more. "Let me finish, idiot! But seeing how you treated me and my fellow bandits, but most of all how you talked to the people, men, elves or whatever race we encountered, we met on the road and how you treated them made me realize that after all you're not so much of prick as I had thought. You're a good king, you are definitely made to be a ruler, be it as a Jarl or as a King, but you are still a man of the people that listens to his subjects and wants to make their lives better. You're trying harder than Torygg ever did."

"Many would not be agreeing with you, about that. Torygg was a loved king, I'm more of feared, as a king."

"Fear gives you more credit than love. A loved king could be blinded by the love he receives, he'd may start basking in it and forget how to rule. A feared king will never forget how to rule and would get much more done. Some of Skyrim's best kings were borderline tyrants."

"Some were simply inbred fools. Oh and just for your knowledge, the Stormcloak family stopped the inbreeding generations ago. My mother was a commoner, before my father met her," he explained.

"Really? I thought she was some noble woman from Markhart, considering how she looks."

"No, native of Solitude. She's a bard. She used to wander from town to town with her songs and her stories. One day she came here and she never left. My father used to visit the local inn, just down the stairs from the entrance of the palace. He met her, listened to her stories, married like a month later. She did a lot of spying for him, during official meetings at the Blue Palace with the High Kings that succeeded while he was the Jarl of the Eastmarch," he explained. "She's a charmer, in case you didn't notice."

"Kind of hard not to notice." Beckett ran a hand through her now soaked hair, trying to get most of the dirt and mat out of it. "Damn, I hate when blood gets in my hair. Makes washing them a battle on its own."

Castle turned around and picked one of the small bottles they had amassed on a small shelf by the pool. "Come here, let me help you."

Sighing, Beckett slid on the bench and sat beside him. Castle took the cork out with his teeth and spit it out, before pouring a generous dollop of its red, thick content in his palm. He put the bottle down and gently tipped her head back so her hair got soaked with water once more, then he gently massaged the liquid on it. Quickly, a thick foam formed between his fingers and her hair. His touch was calm and gentle, as if he had done this before, enough to pick up a routine. Kate was surrounded by a lingering scent of lavender and snowberries, and coupled with the hot water and his ministrations, she was lulled into a state of drowsiness she had never felt in her life, almost a trance. Castle thoroughly made his way through her hair, working knots and dirt out of each strand. He had pulled a comb out of nowhere and helped himself with that. As he passed it through her soapy, messy mane, she saw the suds sloshing around them. Some were nearly black with grime, but as he kept washing them off and reapplying the thick concoction they got cleaner and whiter.

"Feel better?" he asked after some time spent in complete silence.

"Uh… yes, definitely," she murmured. "Where did you learn this?"

She heard him sigh. "I have a motherless daughter. For a while, she only wanted to be taken care by me. She was scared the Dark Brotherhood would try to kill me too and she didn't want to let me go anywhere. Nightmares became an everyday occurrence and I had to learn how to take care of a scared little girl. Washing hair and styling it became one of my favourite tasks. I find it oddly relaxing."

"And you're good at it too. Reminds me of my own mother washing my hair when I was a little girl."

"That's the intent. Alright, it should be all clean now."

She plunged beneath the water to wash the remains of the thick foam away. "Thank you. Come on, let me repay the favor."

He groaned. "You don't have to."

"But I want to so stop whining and hand the soap."

Shaking his head, he picked another bottle and handed it over. It was different, both in color and scent. It was darker, a greenish tone of blue she had seen in some particular flowers that grew on rocky terrains at high altitudes. It also smelled like those flowers, mixed with mint. Definitely a more masculine scent than lavender and snowberry.

Mirroring his actions, she poured warm water over his head to soak his short hair better, before she applied the thick mixture on it. As soon as she started massaging the soap on his head, he started moaning and purring like a kitten. "You alright?"

He nodded. "Yes, definitely. Just perfect."

She was glad he couldn't see her smile. She repeated the same movements he had done on her just a moment before, and she saw his muscles in the neck and upper back relax under her ministrations. When she poured some water to wash the foam away, only to repeat the operation to clear his own hair from the grime that had accumulated in days, maybe weeks of neglect, she noticed some strange movements of his right arm.

"Oh please don't tell me you're jacking off!"

Her accusation, though thrown in a light-hearted way, startled him. "What? No! Just an itch to scratch, that's all!" he defended himself, like a criminal caught red-handed.

Chuckling, she sneaked her arm around his torso, beneath the water, down to his groin. There was no way in Hell or Sovngarde that her hand could have closed around the hilt of his sword. The groan her slight movement elicited from him was just the further proof she needed. "Yes, you were jacking off."

"Don't be offended, please…"

"Why should I be offended? Please, stop treating me like one of those posh noblewomen in Solitude. I grew up in a forest and I learned archery before writing. And don't forget I spent the last two years surrounded by men and women that thought there was nothing lewd in having sex in the main room of the fort, in front of the others."

He shuddered, probably in revulsion. "That's kind of disgusting, you know…"

"I thought so too," she replied, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind. "But as the chief I had my own private room. It wasn't better than the common rooms for the others, but at least it had a door. As long as they didn't fight each other or killed anyone during our forays, I let them do whatever they wanted. After all, they were bandits, normal laws don't apply to them, until they're caught or killed."

He turned around to face her and circled her waist with his arms, pulling until she was resting on his lap. "I still can't believe you were the cause of so many of my problems and my clashes with Firebeard, my steward back in Solitude. He wanted to kill you right on the spot when you were brought to the palace."

"I'm glad you didn't kill me. But if you want me to pay for my crimes, I'm not going to refuse some time in jail."

He growled in scorn. "How many times do I have to tell you that you have already paid for what you've done? It's not like you killed anyone, I even had a clerk back in Solitude count the amount of your bounty. It wasn't that high, nothing that can't be paid off. Also, you committed most of your crimes before we took Solitude and well… there was a little accidental fire in the palace after that and… most of the documentation on you is now ashes so there wasn't much to calculate."

"What does that even mean?"

"It means that you owe Hjaalmarch either two thousands, six hundred and twenty three septims or twelve months in jail," he explained. "That's your bounty. It could have been higher, but the clerk couldn't find anything more about you. The fact that your name as unknown helped a lot, there are probably some more reports of your crimes, but they are scattered around the boxes that survived the fire but credited to an anonymous bandit."

"That's like… I already served part of my sentence, am I right?"

He nodded. "Exactly. Technically you're still serving it, as my prisoner. As long as you remain in my custody, it will count as jail time."

"Even if I'm not in a real cell in the dungeon?" That particular outlook didn't seem so bad, in the end.

"Even if you're not in the dungeon. As soon as we return to Solitude I'll notify authority of your updated status as a free woman, since you saved my life and I appealed to my rights as King to forgive your crimes and let you go as a free woman. And if you want to abide the law down to the last rune, I can pay your bounty."

She shook her head. "Send that money to the people I hurt by pillaging their crops and villages. I can give you a detailed account, if you want."

"The gold and any other precious item found in your hideout has already been equally split and delivered to those that denounced attacks from your group as a compensation. You're safe, on that side. The bounty serves to cover the expenses gone into apprehending you. Nothing more. I can pay it, if you want, it's not much."

"If you do though, let me work for it. Once you let me go, back in Solitude, give me a job and I'll work for free until I paid you back."

"That can be arranged. But why don't we move the conversation to different subject and maybe a different place? As much as I love this room, it's getting a little too hot for my tastes. And I have some urgent matters to take care of, if you don't mind."

"Whatever you have to do, Your Highness."

"Good. Come with me then, I need your advice on some important matters regarding banditism in the Hold," he said. "Consider it your first day of work to repay your bounty."

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The stark contrast of temperature between the bathroom and the main hall of the palace made Kate shiver violently, as she stepped in the grand room following Castle. Only now, without the hunger and the fear gnawing at her stomach, she could actually appreciate how big it was. Huge, with tall, stony ceilings, a long table and benches ready for banquets or any other official function the hall was needed for. On the walls, weapon racks and decorative shields gave the hall a solemn feel. She noticed that some of the weapons were very old, but perfectly cleaned. She knew Castle respected his ancestors and was proud of them, and by how the hall of his palace was well kept, she was pretty sure he wanted to show his guests his pride for his past.

Now squeaky clean and dressed in new, tailored clothes, they walked to the throne, where Castle sat. He gestured her to stand at his right and ordered a servant to fetch a chair or stool for her. Once they were both settled, he called Galmar.

His lieutenant, with a cleaned but bruised face, walked in the room and knelt in front of his King. "Your Majesty… I…"

Perfectly aware of the fact that Castle didn't like to be addressed that way and that all those close to him, like Galmar, called him by first name. She deduced that the second in command felt extremely ashamed of his own behavior and of the fact that he had caused such an angered reaction from his king, and preferred to show some deference to him.

However, the King didn't buy it. With a minute gesture of his right hand, he silenced him.

"Cut the crap Galmar, and stand up," ordered Castle.

From her point of view, Kate could not see his face, but she was pretty sure he had transitioned back to his  _mask_ , so different from the man that she had taught her how to discern between a poisonous root and one that contained a juice that would stop bleeding almost immediately.

"What I saw, coming here, left me extremely unhappy. Do you have a good reason for having pulled all the guards from the roads and the villages?" he asked. "We stationed in Kynesgrove and there wasn't a single guard there. The last time that village was left unguarded was because a dragon had killed all the guards while they tried to take it down. What happened?"

"I… we have a problem with bandits and I had to send more men out investigating, to find them."

Castle nodded. "I see. What I don't understand is why would you send out people to investigate when you don't have enough men to protect our people from said bandits. And you know that there are still dragons at large, don't you?"

Galmar looked down, his face darkening and blushing, ashamed. "Yes."

"Good. Now tell me again, why did you pull guards from their duties when there are so many dangers out there, for our people?"

The lieutenant sighed, defeated. "Because I was stupid, I made a mistake and I didn't think."

Castle nodded again. "You thought like a soldier. A soldier sees an issue and goes out trying to fix it. A King's first duty, on the other hand, is to protect. I asked you to rule as I would. Have you ever seen me pulling guards from the Hold to go and fetch some bandits?"

He shook his head, grimacing as the sharp movement brought some pain from his probably broken nose. "No. You hired mercenaries, the Companions maybe, or sent bounty notices in inns and on bulletin boards across the hold."

"At least you still remember that. Now, please… do you have an idea where the Dragonborn is?" He shook his head again. "Send couriers to all the major cities and summon her here. And her husband. And tell her to bring as many Companions and sell swords she deems necessary, because I'm sending her tracking down these bandits. Now go, write the missive and send them out by sundown. And I want all the reports of bandit attacks in my study, before you do that."

"They're already there," murmured Galmar.

"Good to know. Now… go. Up until I'm here, I'll take care of the Hold's affairs. You deal with the army and work on that, because at the moment, it absolutely sucks. And make it quick!"

Galmar bowed. "Will do, my King." He turned around and walked away, towards a small door on the left of the throne.

"Where is he going?" asked Kate.

"His office, I think. He has a small room down that corridor where he works. Sometimes. He spends most of his time running around the Hold, or at least he used to. I don't exactly know what he's been doing lately; I'll have to ask Alexis and Mother. Jorleiff?" he called the steward as he sat on a chair off the pedestal where the throne sat.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Is there anyone petitioning for hearing?"

The steward looked at a small book he kept beneath his doublet. "No, nothing for this afternoon. There's a trial tomorrow, first thing in the morning, Galmar was supposed to officiate it and show Lady Alexis how to be a fair Judge, but I assume you'll prefer to work on it on your own. Then there are some minor hearings scheduled after noon. Do you want me to arrange for supper?"

"Nah, we'll take care of it ourselves. You're free to go, just have the servants settle the Hall for the trial tomorrow. And let the main door open for a while next morning, the air is stale in here. You'll find me in my study, should necessity arise."

"Yes, My Lord."

Sighing, Castle stood up from the throne. "Come on, let's see if you can help me with those bandits."

"So that's why you wanted me here? To serve you as a consultant?"

He walked down the pedestal and Beckett followed him. "It was the main reason I kept you waiting in the cell for so long. I doubted you would have helped me willingly, if I didn't show you some goodwill by allowing you to travel with me as a guest, and not as a prisoner, but before that I had to arrange the trip and the bureaucratic crap that would have allowed Elisif to rule in my place."

He led her back to the war room and up the stairs to the Jarl's private quarters. He walked in the kitchen and grabbed two horn cups. "We've got a fine selection of mead from all over Skyrim, beer, ale; wine imported from Cyrodil and…" he shuffled around the shelves, looking for hidden, forgotten bottles. "Oh! I found a bottle of apple cider!"

"Mead will be just fine, thank you. So now there's Elisif back on the throne?"

He nodded. "For the time being, yes. She's a good ruler, thoughtful and considerate, and I'm working to have the High King Court restored in Windhelm, so I would leave Solitude and Hjaalmarch to her. What do you want? Honningbrew? Black-Briar? Got any preferences?"

"Anything would be alright, but do you have anything spiced? Like with juniper berries or something?"

He picked a large bottle with a handwritten label on it. "Yes! Honningbrew started making it about a year ago and the owner got me a good cask of the first good batch he fermented. It didn't even have a label yet!" He grabbed another bottle of Black-Briar Reserve and led her to his study. "Come on, we've got some work to do before supper."

His study was nothing but a square room with a desk, two chairs and a massive bookcase behind that covered one two of the four walls. A pile of papers encumbered part of the desk surface, and there were books scattered almost everywhere. He opened the blinds of the small window to let some of the weak late afternoon sun in the room. He left the window ajar, in order to let in some fresh air. He pulled a chair away from the desk and let her sit, before walking around the table and sitting down himself. He set the horn cups and the bottles down, and then pushed the spiced mead towards her. "Here, have a drink. I hope you're up for some work now, even if we just arrived here."

Kate took the bottle and pulled the cork off, the poured some of the amber liquid in her cup. "You call hunting bandits work? Pff… it was my favorite past time, back at the fort."

"What do you mean?" he asked, taking a sheet from the pile of documents Galmar had left for him.

"As chief of the band, I was in charge with keeping my men and women safe. Sometimes other groups tried to rob us, or assault us. Most of the time they failed, but we had a rival band that was definitely more ruthless than us. I observed the path of their attacks and tracked them to their hideout, an old Nord burial ground. We attacked them at dawn, they were all asleep. We managed to kill most of them, but their chief was a good archer and wounded me."

"The scar on your chest?" She nodded. "So, in the end you killed someone!"

Kate shrugged her shoulders. "Yes, but I highly doubt farmers and merchants will miss them."

He smiled. "Me too. So… I trust you in this matter. Where do you want to start?"

"First and foremost, I need a map of the hold. I don't know the territories and I need knowledge of the terrain, caves, mines and abandoned forts. Everything a group of desperate men could hide in. Usually, bandits aren't born that way; something drives them to that kind of life."

Castle opened a drawer and pulled a large, rolled sheet of thick paper and spread it on the table. "Here it is. It's not exactly recent, I had this made a couple of years ago and here…" he pointed at a spot down in the south, near the Rift. "A Dwemer ruin has been uncovered. Near there, there are the carbonized remains of an Imperial camp. Except for that, it's up to date."

Kate took the map and examined it. "What about the dragons?"

"What about them?"

"Alduin made quite a mess last year, and some of his big lizard friends are still at large. Were there other attacks? Zones where dragon activity came more often than others?"

Castle shook his head. "Not that I know of. The Dragon… Vivienne told me about a couple of dragon burial sites in the Hold, mostly in the mountains near the border with the Pale and Winterhold, but she took care of it long ago." He poured himself a drink and swallowed the contents of his cup with one swift gulp. "She encountered a couple of lesser dragons while travelling down to Riften, but it seems like most of the dragon attacks took place near Whiterun and Morthal. Some near Markhart. There were never attacks in Windhelm, or Solitude. Why do you ask?"

She nodded, and kept studying the map. "Because if you're on the run or living the life of the highwayman, an overgrown fire-breathing lizard isn't exactly something you wish to meet after breakfast, and they would probably look for a safe place to hide in, where dragons can't reach them. Oh, by the way, there was one dragon flying in Hjaalmarch some time ago, not too far from our fort. About six months if I remember correctly. Ask Vivienne when she comes here; I think she had something to do with its disappearance."

"You can ask her when she comes here."

While Beckett studied the map to familiarize herself with the territory, he went through the reports Galmar had left for him. After a while, she put down the map and took one of the reports herself. Reading through it, she then searched for the place on the map, and marked it with a piece of charcoal pencil.

"What are you doing?" asked the King.

"What you asked me to do," she replied, drily. "I'm marking down every location of every reported attack." She took another paper and marked down another location. "Usually bandits more on foot. Large groups of men on horses tend to attract too much attention from guards, as they make a lot of noise. Now, if I delimit their area of action, I might find the right hideout without even leaving this room."

"Did that work before?"

"Just five times out of six, but it worked," she explained.

"And the sixth time?"

"Vivienne caught us before we could rat them out of their hideout, so I don't know if I was right or not. We were supposed to leave and find them that day."

He nodded. "Fair enough. Let's say it's five out of five then, our chances sound better that way."

They continued for a couple of hours. The sun set behind the mountain, shedding the last light on Skyrim and then on Morrowind, the native land of Dunmer. They had to light candles in order to see the papers in front of their eyes, but when Martha knocked on the door, a tray with two bowls of rabbit stew, a loaf of bread and a bottle of wine for them. They weren't exactly hungry, considering the improvised banquet Alexis had been able to prepare them not five hours earlier, but his mother was as tenacious as orichalcum ore: they bad spent days rationing the little food they had, and they needed to put some meat back on their bones. Not that they needed it, but the soup was delicious and the wine tasted heavenly, so they didn't put much of a fight and simply put down the dusty papers and ate under Martha's watchful eye.

By the time his mother turned all protective on them though, Kate had already outlined a scheme the bandits seemed to follow and the area they operated. However, those were smart bandits. In the past six months, they had never hit twice in the same place. Close, yes. But never twice in the same place. That meant that trying to figure out a pattern was impossible. The area they operated in was small, in the south of the Hold, close to the border with Riften. So close that Beckett dared to think they were also active in that Hold, but kept well away from major settlements. Smart move, she thought. That would have kept investigating parties away from them for longer.

"Is there anything more in those papers?" she asked.

Castle shrugged. "Not much. They give us some not so precise indications about their equipment, they usually travel in small parties, four or five people, and they say they are well organized. The few witnesses that guards have been able to find and interrogate spoke of Imperial accents mixed with local inflections."

"Deserters, then. Or remnants of that camp that was destroyed last year, here." She pointed at a circle she had added to the map to mark down a former Imperial temporary settlement that had been wiped after the end of the Civil War. "Or a bit of both maybe."

"You sure?"

She shook her head. "No, but I've seen a lot of Imperial soldiers stranded and left alone when General Tullius was killed. Without orders, support or even the faintest idea of what to do, many of them tried to cross the border to Cyrodil and go back home, but unfortunately it was nearly impossible as winter was approaching," she explained. "I've seen my fair share of soldiers desperate enough to repudiate his uniform and the oath sworn to the Empire and kill a traveler for the meager piece of bread he had in his bag. Or half frozen men with tattered uniforms that joined existing groups of bandits or forming a new one."

"What about your men? Any Imperial soldiers among them?"

"No. Well, yes… but he had been discharged after a bear nearly mauled his leg off. A great archer, could hit a man many yards away. But he joined us when the army sent him away with little to nothing, only a small amount of money and the clothes he owned. We found him in a cave in the mountains east of Solitude, starving. We gave him food, a warm place to stay and a purpose. His arrows in the knees were legendary."

"Javier Esposito? Tall, broad shoulders, a slight limp in his gait?"

"Yes. Do you know him?"

"No, I know of him. When I heard of his amazing abilities, I conscripted him in the army. He's paying for his crimes by teaching the recruits archery, in Solitude."

"You know anything about Kevin Ryan?"

"The half elf bard? Oh yes… he's… by Julianos let me think… he's with the Companions with the other guy, Skaal. Sharp wit and quick thinking, I thought he could do a good mercenary," he told her. "He gathered intelligence for you, didn't he?"

Kate nodded, relieved that her best friends were unharmed, in places they would be comfortable in. "What about Lanie?"

"Ah, the Redguard… She's in the healers team, ready to be dispatched where needed. She now resides in Solitude. Sassy gal, that one."

"Oh, believe me; you haven't seen the best of her. Are you really going back to Solitude in a month?"

"Maybe two. Do you wish to meet them? That's not a problem."

She raised a puzzled eyebrow. "Don't you think we may gang up on you and try to escape?"

Castle chuckled. "I highly doubt it, if I have to be sincere. You're all stationed in places that suit you and with roles that fit you well. Your sentence's a little heavy maybe, but I think you can manage it."

"Heavy? What do you mean?"

"You're stuck with me!"

Laughing, she threw him a piece of charcoal. "Shut up, Castle, don't be an idiot."

He caught the charcoal and threw it back to her. "I have to be serious all the time, allow me to joke a little when I'm with you."

Smiling, Kate went back to work, but she was weary from all the travelling and the five days stuck in the cabin had been more tiresome than she had expected. In addition, the abundant late lunch and the long, hot bath had left her more relaxed than she had ever been in her all life. The mead and the wine only completed the scene and made her groggy and sleepy.

"Castle… do you mind if I go to sleep? I'm kind of tired…"

He nodded. "Come with me, I'll show you my room."

"Your room?" she asked as he opened the door and stepped in the corridor.

"Well, where do you want to sleep? The guest rooms? Nah… You get the best of the best from now on."

"You flatter me Castle, but I don't really deserve it."

He opened a door and let her in. "I'm alive because you killed that bandit. You allowed me to come home and see my daughter again. You deserve this and much more." He let her in. "I hope you like it."

Well, it wasn't much different from any other master bedroom in any other wealthy house of Skyrim, but it had a homely feeling that she had rarely experienced in her life. Fireplace, a large bed with a proper mattress and good quality bedding, a huge window that allowed her to see for miles towards the south, even the famous light from the monastery of High Hrothgar, the biggest wardrobe she had ever seen and more bookshelves adorned with books books books and more books.

"Is there a room without books in this place?" she asked, as she looked around.

"The kitchen, the bathroom and… and that's that. Generations of Stormcloaks and Castles added their knowledge to the palace, and I'm their custodian."

"When did the Stormcloak family line become Castle?"

"Around the time of the Oblivion Crisis. No male heir to bring on the family name. Jarl Freya Stormcloak married a noble of a now nearly deceased family, a certain Wulfgar Castle. Since he was the last in line, Freya decided to change the family name in Castle Of The Stormcloak, to pay homage to a small family that had supplied able men and women for our army for centuries. Technically, I'm the last living male bearing the Castle family name."

"Someone could have cut it to restore the traditional name."

"Yes. But no one ever did it. The Castles were an important family, once. Their family line can be traced back to the Five Hundred of Ysgamor, and it's an honor to bear both names. People just started call me Castle just because Castle Of The Stormcloak sounds a bit redundant, but the official name is Richard Alexander Edgar Rogers Castle Of The Stormcloak."

Kate nodded. "Good to know. I wish my family name bore such a beautiful story too."

"Where do you come from?" he asked, closing the door behind them.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Here and there. My father came from Cyrodil, from the Imperial city. He was a lawyer and traveled a lot because of this, to settle disputes and things like that. One day he came to Falkreath to help the Jarl settle a mess with someone in Bruma, just south of the Jerell Mountains, and he met my mother. The Jarl was so happy about how my dad had dealt with everything that he conferred him the role of Thane and gave him a plot of land to build a house on. They married and they had me. Fast forward twenty-five years later and they were murdered because no matter what, they refused to take down the Talos Shrine in our courtyard. I was lucky I had gone hunting in the woods just east of there, or I would have been killed too."

"What about your mother? What did she do?" he asked, as he pulled some clean, more comfortable clothes out of the wardrobe for them both.

"She was a lawyer too, but she was more expert in violent crimes, my father was one of those specialized in dealing with bureaucracy and economic stuff."

He nodded. "I see. And you? What were you, before becoming the scourge of Hjaalmarch?"

She chuckled, but there was a shade of regret in that sound. "I was set to follow my parents' way. I traveled to the Imperial city to enroll in law school, but a racist Thalmor wouldn't accept me because I was half Nord. And guess what, you still had to start making a mess, so I can't even blame you for that."

"So, what did you do?"

"I traveled back home and started studying on my parents' books. That's all. I worked at the Inn in Falkreath, hunted and sold some game from time to time… the normal things a girl in Skyrim does to survive. The rest… well, you know the rest. But you still have to tell me about what happened in Helgen!"

Castle snickered, as he unbuttoned the finely embroidered vest he was wearing. "I'm surprised you don't know yet."

"I've heard things. Can you pass me that shirt, please?" asked Kate as she started getting ready for bed herself. He grabbed one of his oldest shirt, once white and now yellowed by all the washing, and threw it at her. "So… what happened?"

"After I killed Torygg I tried to escape, down to Cyrodil. I have contacts there; they could have kept me safe until things got a little calmer, maybe after the Moot or something, so that I could return to Windhelm. Ralof, one my subordinates, was with me at the time. We were ambushed, just south of there, we were nearly at the pass, but the horses were tired and we had to slow down. Therefore, they caught up on us, took another path and waited for us right on the border. We tried to fight our way out, but they were too many and I didn't want to spill more blood than necessary, so we surrendered," he explained. He approached a corner of the room, where a porcelain basin rested on a tripod. He poured some water from a jug nearby in it and washed his face. "We were tied up, I was gagged so I couldn't Shout, and we were hoarded on an open carriage so we could be moved to the nearest Imperial settlement. At the time, Falkreath was aligned with the Empire, so Helgen was chosen as our place of execution. Let me wash my teeth, then I'll finish the tale. There's a toothbrush for you too."

Kate hadn't seen a proper toothbrush in two years. Usually made of wood and coarse horsehair, toothbrushes weren't cheap and admittedly, Nords weren't exactly keen on washing their teeth. Culturally, they relied more on cleansing concoctions or healing potions, should need arise. Personal hygiene wasn't exactly the best, up in the north, but being half-Imperial, Kate was used to a lot of southern customs too. Toothbrushes included.

Too bad she never had the chance to get one, during the past two weeks. The idea of having one of her own once again was more than titillating.

The King handed her a brand new one, along with a small jar with a thick bluish paste in it. They both wetted the bristles with some water from the jug and gathered some of the paste with the brush. She had almost forgot how bad cleansing pastes tasted, for ages she had thought alchemists would prepare them that way to discourage people. This one wasn't so bad, but the salt used to scrape the dirt away from the mouth didn't exactly go well with the bitter taste of the purified clay used as a base. Still better than having to prepare a makeshift mouthwash with crudely distilled wine where they would out blue mountain flower petals to extract the curative agents.

She was back in civilization for less than a day and she was already realizing how being a bandit sucked.

Once they were done with that, they wore the clothes they would sleep in and climbed in the bed, so Castle could continue his tale.

"Anyway… the Imperials and the Elves had a couple more of prisoners. One was a horse stealer form Rorikstead... I think. Bah, I don't remember anyway. But most of all there was a particular Breton that was trying to cross the border into Skyrim to join the Stormcloak rebellion."

"Let me guess, that was Vivienne?"

"Exactly!" he exclaimed. "But let's get to the really interesting part of the story: we were all supposed to be beheaded. They killed the thief, because he had tried to escape and one of my soldiers… before they called her to the block. The executioner had already raised his massive axe when… well, when Alduin landed on a tower, breathing fire everywhere and destroying what couldn't be set on fire with his massive wings. We took advantage of the ruckus and managed to escape. I crossed the mountains with a couple of guards and managed to arrive in Ivarstead right when a transport was passing there, heading to Windhelm. That's it. That's what happened in Helgen."

Kate was stunned. "Wow…" she whispered. "And here I thought being a bandit was an adventurous life. Being a Jarl… that's way better!"

Castle laughed, wholeheartedly. "No, believe me. After my father died and I became Jarl of Windhelm, there have been way less adventures than when I was in the Imperial army! Or when I was in High Hrothgar, to be fair."

"Oh now that's a good one! When did you learn to Shout?" she asked, turning on her side to face him.

"I was selected by one of the Greybeards up at the monastery when I was a little boy. I stayed there for ten years, and I learned my way through some Shouts, like… Unrelenting Force, which is the one I use the most, Disarm and Dismay, what I used while retaking Markhart from the Forsworn… I know two thirds of Frost Breath and all the three words for Fire Breath… stuff like that," he said. "Thing is… There was unrest in Skyrim while I was up there, and the little details I got to know through the man that brought up supplies for the monastery scared me. I argued with Arngeir, my mentor, and when I was fifteen I just left in the middle of the night. I climbed down the Seven Thousand steps and walked back to Windhelm."

"What happened then?"

"My father sent me to join the Imperial army. We were still fighting the Thalmor at the time. It didn't matter much, we were defeated. The Elves, knowing who my father was, caught me and tortured me for days. When they let me go, I met a girl that helped me get better. I brought her home with me."

"Meredith?"

He nodded. "Yes. Things got messy after that. We got married, we had Alexis, I became Jarl and it seemed like even with the Empire defeated, things would be good. But then there was the Markhart thing with the Forsworn… I guess you know about it. "She nodded. "Right… someone thought I was making too much noise, blatantly opposing the White Gold Concordat and ordered a hit on Meredith. They thought it would silence me, too bad it spurned me to become the rebellious Jarl that in the end got so fed up with the corruption that killed the High King. A normal day in politics, after all."

Kate grunted. "Normal my ass," she exclaimed.

"Well, if I can give you my opinion, your ass is way above par."

She rewarded him with a playful slap on his chest. "You could have spared that. But… seriously… you know that if only half of what you told me became public knowledge, people would stop thinking you're just a bloodthirsty bastard that wanted the throne for himself from day one."

"Did you know that I begged the Jarls not to elect me?"

"No I didn't. But seriously, as I said… if the population could see the man behind the mask of the king, you'd have way less people violently opposing you. You know that there are still some people that are faithful to the Empire."

He nodded, again. "Oh, I'm well aware of that. And I know that if what I just told you became public people would change their minds about me, but the thing is, I don't want their pity. I want to be accepted because I'm a good king, and I'm working my ass off to change things."

"I see that. But you really need to realize that you will never be accepted if you don't reveal at least part of the true reasons you did what you did. Start with me: tell me the real reason you killed Torygg."

His face suddenly became dark and angry. "Because he was a dirty corrupted bastard, that's why. The Thalmor bribed him, exploited his popularity and with time, he was releasing rules and laws that would slowly kill Skyrim as a nation. First he stripped the Temple Of The Nines in Solitude of all traces of Talos, then came the prohibition of even private worship, that's the law that killed your parents… and many other little things that he was so sordidly doing that would kill our culture, favoring the Thalmor's plans of imposing their own views of the world over ours. The last stand came when I received a missive from Torygg, among the other Jarls, that forced Imperial guards over our Hold's militia. And requested that every temple in Skyrim had a Thalmor approved priests and acolytes. Some books would be banned, Nords couldn't marry other races anymore… he was about to proclaim laws like that. He was slowly making living in Skyrim impossible, for men, elves… everyone. I had to stop him."

She could hardly believe him, considering how Torygg seemed such a careful ruler, so attentive towards his subjects, but he wasn't lying. He wasn't making up things, she could read it in his tear brimmed eyes.

"So?"

"I traveled to Solitude. Me, Ralof and a small contingent of guards. I asked a private hearing, and he stupidly showed me all the money he was making. He showed me the drafts of some even more restrictive laws he was about to declare effective, like the order of expulsion of all orcs, even those living in the strongholds, stuff like that… I managed to save them, they're still in my office, in Solitude, I can show you… And he was smiling!" he burst, angrily. "He was drunk, so I didn't think it would be a good idea to challenge him to a duel, so I waited until next morning, when he was sober. Or so I thought. I challenged him, he accepted, we fought and I used a low powered Shout. I just wanted him to trip, that's all. I pushed him, he tripped trying to regain his balance and he fell. He hit his head, but he stood again. I think the blow to the back of his head stunned him, because he started fighting like a kid. He bashed his sword on mine and… I defended myself. The moment I saw an opening, I cut his throat. After that, I ran away."

"Did you want to kill him from the beginning?"

He shook his head. "No. I was furious, but I just wanted to show the people in court that if he wasn't a good fighter he wasn't suitable to rule a nation of warriors like Skyrim. It was a first blood duel, not a kill or be killed thing. But he was so stunned he wouldn't stop when I lowered my sword. He just kept coming at me, trying to kill me. I panicked and… well, let's just say I keep my sword very sharp."

"Any witness?"

"The whole court. But people saw what they wanted to see and you know… false news travels fast."

She snickered. "Believe me, I know all too well. So, right now, what do you plan to do?"

Castle took a deep breath and tried to relax a little bit more on the bed, sagging into it. "Right now? I'm amending all the ridiculous laws Torygg made up to please the Thalmor, turning into something that doesn't smother Skyrim or anyone living here. It's taking time, but the Jarls are helping. For now. After that, it's all about making everyone's life safer with a well-trained army, a steady supply of food for everyone and if I can manage it, stop blatant racism towards non Nords that have done nothing to hurt anyone. The majority of them live a respectable life, pay taxes and work for Skyrim's wellbeing."

"What do you want to do about bandits?"

"Catch them and have them judged fairly, if I can come up with some ground rules that I know every Jarl will follow. I'm all in for penal labor for those who don't kill, like you guys. Problem is, most of the gangs like to kill, and people don't take murder that good, in this land."

"I know Castle. And about that, I can help. I've been a bandit for two years, I know how they think and act. We're not a complicated kind, but many of us don't actually want to be bandits," she said. "But those who want to be, they can be cruel as draugrs."

He nodded, then sneaked an arm around her shoulders and pulled her towards him. She silently snuggled closer to him and lay her head on his chest, revelling in the warmth radiating from his body. "Tired?" she asked.

"Yes…" he whispered. "The past few days have been a bit… wearing."

She chuckled. "I think I know what you mean. And by the way, it wasn't all my fault if you couldn't keep your hands off me."

"Says the woman that the moment she saw me on that bed pulled away the covers and jumped over me."

"You didn't seem to mind much. And for fuck's sake, I had just come out of a dry spell, and so did you. I don't really think anyone would blame us for all the sex we've had in that shack."

"I don't envy the next person stranded there. Did we even clean up?" he questioned.

"I did, but have the hay changed as soon as you can. It's nearly rotten, by now."

He gently kissed the crown on her head. "Will do. Sleep now, you deserve it, after all you've done for me."

"It was the least I could do, for the King that asked forgiveness for ruining my life."

He smiled, briefly. "Thank you for your trust, then. Sweet dreams, Kate."

"With you, always."

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Much to Kate's amusement and affection, she found out that Castle was a cuddler.

A behavior she had thought originated from the lack of firewood and the constant huddling for warmth, back at the miners shack, was instead something he did out of habit. During the night, the king kept her close to his body, holding her tightly in his strong arms. The first couple of nights, she found it slightly annoying, mostly because he was a walking furnace, radiating so much heat that the fire burning in the hearth was basically useless, but with time, she got used to it. She even started enjoying it, most of all those nights they couldn't help but give in to passion and lust and she couldn't be bothered with fetching her sleep clothes from wherever they had landed in the room.

He also liked to sleep. And he slept like a baby, often splayed on his belly, an arm curled beneath the pillow and the other clawing at his side seeking her. He was very handsy, never in an inappropriate way, but he liked physical contact. He often unconsciously held her hand when they were alone and sometimes even when they weren't. He wasn't ashamed of her past, all he cared was her present.

They had arrived in Windhelm for a fortnight, she had been summoned in his study in Solitude about a month before and not once, even if they had discussed and sometimes plainly argued, and he had never held her crimes against her. When someone tried, rarely fortunately, he always defended her with strenuous tenacity. Never in her life someone had showed such a devotion to her.

And sometimes, in the few moments she had all by herself, she could hear his words echoing in her head.  _You allowed me to return home and see my daughter again_. All he wanted was going home, to his daughter. She had allowed him to do both things, by killing the bandit that was about to shoot that arrow that could have possibly killed him. After that, his attitude towards her had changed. During the trip, he had considered her a guest and a possible helper. After the bandit attack, he had completely changed the way he moved and talked around her. In the span of a few hours, they had become friends and then lovers. Five days later he started talking about taking her to Riften and marry her in the Temple of Mara, the goddess of love.

She knew things in Skyrim moved fast, she had lived there all her life, but she had no idea they could get  _that_ fast.

True, they had condensed months of courtship in the span of a few days, but damn if what she felt for that man hadn't taken her by surprise.

Because that man was a riddle.

A strong-willed king, tireless when it came to his duty, ruthless when he had to be, kind and merciful when the situation required it. He was a fair ruler, he went to bed late and rose at dawn six days a week, allowing himself only a day of rest to recuperate. And even on his designated free day, if need arose, he was always ready to go back to work.

But when the time to rule came to an end, when the sun went down and candles were lit, the ruler left room for the son, the father and the lover. A man so different from the one that sat on the Throne of Skyrim that sometimes she was afraid one day or another he'd start getting confused about who he was. If the King was strict and sometimes harsh with punishments, the other side of the coin was a caring man that didn't care much for boundaries or etiquette and simply followed his heart. He had no qualms when she asked about his murdered wife, and he spoke highly of her, memories of their time together fond and sometimes longing, but he never compared them. He included his daughter and mother, and he did his best to make her feel included in his small family.

Alexis and Martha were kind enough to let her join them, and in a short time, they became friends. The fourteen year old was a fiery type, she reminded Kate so much of herself at her age. Eager to learn the craft of ruling, but never rushing her decisions. She taught Kate about the Hold, about its borders and lands, the fauna and the flora. While her father was busy, she had taken her on tour in the city, along with Martha. They had done their best to make her feel welcome.

Still, most of the time she felt out of place. Living in a drafty, abandoned fort in the north for so long had changed her habits, shaped her to the point that, most of the time, being around people made her feel awkward and with the pressing need to run away and hide.

The day after their arrival, during the trial that had gathered a large group of people in the Hall of the Palace, she had found herself fretting on her chair beside the throne as she acted as Castle's personal body guard, wanting to leave the place and be by herself for a while.

During her time at the fort, she often secluded herself in the tiny room she had claimed as hers, behind the closed door. She planned assaults, checked intel from Ryan, tended to the economical side of being a bandit chief… things like that. Alone. She rarely attended great gatherings, she had always been a solitary type even as a child, and she usually hanged out with a restricted circle of trusted friends.

She had no problems with his family, but when Castle asked her to attend a council with the Hold's general staff with him, to give them some insights about the bandits' ways, she had felt her throat constrict and her stomach churn as long as she had remained in that room with all those people.

She wasn't used to such crowds.

Therefore, she cherished those moments, just before dawn when Castle woke up, when she was alone with herself. Laying in his huge bed, tucked beneath the warm covers and furs, she often found herself thinking, letting her mind wander or sometimes, simply watching him sleep.

She found it oddly relaxing. He was there with her, close enough that if she needed, she could touch him and feel him and wake him, but at the same time, he wasn't, still lost in his sleep and dreams. That's how she started noticing little things about him that she had never seen before. How his hair flopped down on his forehead in the morning, the creases on his face, expression lines that showed how worried he was all the time, a faint, thin scar on his neck that pulsed with each heartbeat… things like this.

But also she noticed that, as if on cue, right before dawn he sneaked closer to her, as if his body was unconsciously seeking her proximity. The first couple of days, she found it slightly unnerving, as he had the tendency of keeping her close for the majority of the day, but she had learned to see it as a loving gesture on his part. About a week after they had arrived in Windhelm, she actually found herself basking in the attention he reserved to her.

Never in her life a man had been so caring and considerate in her regards, not even her father. Not to this extent at least. He was taking great care in having her inserted in his routine without disrupting her own, so he allowed her to do some exercise every day, let her keep a very informal dress code made that valued comfort and ease of movement more than the looks and the posh value, even if she wasn't a designed bodyguard. Legally speaking, she was a guest and guests were required to dress accordingly to the state of the court. A woman dressed in padded leather pants and a simple white shirt beneath a cured leather jacket with fur trimmings, clothes more suitable for hunting in the forest than for court hearings, wasn't exactly well received by the local nobles.

But there was a freshly sharpened sword hanging at her belt, and a reinforced glass dagger tucked in her boots, and people knew she was an amazing fighter that had saved the King while they traveled, so they didn't complain loudly. At least not in their presence. Castle would have skinned anyone who tried to object her dress code, with his hands, she was pretty sure of that.

One morning, Castle didn't wake up at the usual time. When Beckett opened her eyes, the gray light of a cloudy day bathed the room in cold hue that was almost blinding as it reflected on the shiny stone walls. As wakefulness slowly crept up her body, she realized it was already late and that Castle had slept in, his arm carelessly wrapped around her waist as he kept her back plastered to his chest.

Trying not to wake him, she turned around and faced him and couldn't help but smile when she noticed the blissful grin that lit his face. He was the picture of happiness, wrapped around the soft furs and the covers in a warm cocoon that welcomed them both. She dared to look past him, at the window, and saw the thick clouds threatening to throw a blanket of snow over the city. Staying in bed wasn't such a bad idea, she thought.

Slowly, careful not to rouse him, she pushed his hair away from his face and rested her hand on his cheek. "What have I done to deserve a wonderful man like you…" she whispered.

He didn't move. Seeing his non-reaction, she let her fingers wander more, down to his scruffy chin and his neck. She passed over the thin scar over his pulse point, feeling the small, delicate ridge of thicker skin beneath her finger pad and it elicited a soft, sleepy grunt from him. She loved how responsive he was to her touch. Even a simple caress or a chaste kiss on his cheek would make him brighten up while he worked, which usually made him all broody and in foul mood, considering the amount of shit he had to deal with every single day.

"Staring is creepy, you know?" he murmured, eyes still closed.

She smiled. "I think I told you the same not a week ago."

"Then why are you staring?"

"Can't help it. You're too cute when you sleep."

At that, he opened one drowsy eye, and she could see a spark of amusement in the bright blue iris. "You too."

Sighing, Beckett dropped her forehead against his chest and breathed deeply. He smelled of the mountain flowers his servants put between the clean clothes, in the wardrobes, with a tangy note of sweat, like every morning before he washed himself. It was a peculiar mix of scents she had grown already accustomed to, and it always made her feel safe. "We overslept," she stated.

She felt him nod against her head, and drop a kiss on her hair "I know, but we worked really late last night. Waking up at dawn didn't seem such a great idea, I didn't want to drag my feet like a resurrected corpse all day long."

"I would pay to see you like that. You always seem so full of life when you wake up…"

He chuckled. "Only because I have to. Most mornings, all I wish is to hide beneath the covers and have my wicked ways with you."

Beckett looked up, a sly grin flashing on her lips. "Wicked ways? What do you mean?"

"Let me show you."

Gently, he ran his hand that rested on her waist up her arm, sliding up her ribcage and to her shoulders, pushing her flat on her back. He leaned down to kiss her, while he moved to rest above her. More than willingly, she parted her legs to cradle him between her thighs as soon as she felt his knee prodding her, and she could feel him, already hard and heavy, against her stomach. She giggled, softly, thinking about how awkward he had felt that night in the shack, when he had revealed he had never had sex since his wife had died and that he felt extremely unfitting, at the moment.

She had to be honest though, all his worries were for naught; that man had some great skills when it came to reduce her to a puddle of writhing flesh. He just needed to kiss her. When he slowly moved down the column of her neck, she couldn't help but arch her back against his chest as he playfully bit down gently just over her pulse point. He knew it made her quiver, he had deftly found that spot basically their first time together, much to her surprise. Yep, that man had skills.

She gasped, loudly, when his lips closed over her nipple. She felt him smile against her overheated skin and at that point she knew there was nothing she could do to stop him, better just relax and enjoy the ride.

He let her nipple go with a loud pop and proceeded down the slope of her breast to kiss the round puckered scar that marred the center of her chest, before he reverently traced a scorching line with his lips and tongue down her tummy, around her belly button, and just when she thought he was going for the main prize, he hooked his right arm around her left leg and abruptly turned to pay some attention to her inner thigh.

"Holy fuck Castle…"

He clicked his tongue and the vibration sent a shockwave through her. "I'm far away from being holy, Kate…" he whispered against her skin. "But I can fuck you alright."

"You better…" She was struggling to speak, in the highly strung state he had thrown her in.

"I think I'm going to wait a little longer…" he said. Then he spoke no more.

She nearly tumbled over the edge as soon as he flicked his tongue on her clit. Her right hand shot down to his head and her fingers fisted his unruly hair to keep him there, while the other hand closed around the soft wolf fur beneath her. By the Nines he was good. He had her worked up so fast she got lost in the marvelous sensations he was enticing from her, coaxing her closer and closer to ecstasy.

But just when she was about to reach it, to the point she was almost tasting it, someone banged insistently on the door. The loud thumps echoed in the large room, distracting them. Castle raised his mouth from her, a look of pure, unadulterated rage twisting his face as he growled a series of long expletives. "Who the fuck bangs on my fucking door at this fucking hour?" he screamed.

Kate shivered when his hot breath washed over her wet folds. When she dared to look down at him, he had murder in his eyes.

"It's Galmar."

"Go away, I'm taking the morning off."

"I'd gladly leave you be but… you have guests!" came the deep voice behind the door.

Castle groaned and dropped his head on her thigh. "Fuck… stay here, I'll deal with this guest and be right back."

Kate couldn't keep the sudden laugh silent, as she observed him stand up and furiously stride towards the door. Buck naked. That spoke volumes about the kind of friendship he shared with Galmar.

But when Castle pulled the heavy door open there was a surprise to wait for him.

"Galmar what do you… Dragonborn!" he shrieked, then jumped behind the door, hiding everything except his head.

The Dragonborn, or better, Vivienne, giggled and politely covered her mouth with her hand. "Good morning, Your Highness," she said, still laughing under her breath. "I'm sorry to catch you so… bothered…" At that remark, Kate saw his ears become bright red in pure embarrassment, as the reason he was… well, naked, was pretty clear.

He shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts. "Nothing to be sorry about. It's my own fault, I was too lazy this morning. Let us get ready and we'll join you in the war room. Feel free to ask the servants for food, water or anything you might need. Galmar will show you your rooms. See you in a while."

He shut the door with a loud thud and took a deep breath. "Well, that was awkward."

"Could have been worse. Think about her reaction if she had seen you naked as the day you were born with a hard on and me in your bed. After she spent weeks tracking me down. At least I was smart enough to hide when you opened the door."

"Well, she'll see you dressed and armed as my bodyguard. I can think of worse situations to meet the person that caught you and brought you to me," he replied as he slid back in bed. "Now… where was I?"

Smiling, she pushed him away. "No way. That was a little bit of a cold shower. Wait until tonight, then we'll see."

His shoulders sagged. "Damn… Alright, then let's get dressed up and eat something. It's going to be a long day."

They arrived at the war room, fully dressed and fed, about an hour later. Vivienne and her husband, Vilkas, sat at the table, quietly chatting between them, each with a cup of steaming herbal tea, while Galmar sat opposite of them, sharpening a dagger he usually kept behind his back.

"Thank you for coming, Vivienne," said Castle, sitting at the end of the table. He set the map Kate had worked on the broad surface then relaxed against the wooden back of his chair. Kate silently walked behind him and took her now customary place at his right, a step back from the chair, thumbs tucked in the heavy leather belt that held her weapons, ready to defend the King if the need arose.

"You finally took time to ask what my name is…" she replied, a slight sassy tone in her voice. Then she looked up at Kate, and clearly recognized her from the day she had arrested her. Apparently, even Vilkas remembered her. "I see you have a new bodyguard."

He nodded. "Yes. After what happened a month ago, while I was travelling here, I thought that having a personal bodyguard was better than an escort party that got slaughtered like a bunch of bunnies in the snow." The scolding, heated look he threw at Galmar wasn't missed by the Dragonborn and her husband, and they frowned. "Kate here was fast and precise and efficient at defending both herself and me."

"She's a criminal."

Castle closed his fist so tight everyone heard the knuckles snap. "She's paying for her crimes by serving me."

"Do you need a bodyguard even in bed?" she asked. "By the Nines, you got yourself bandit whore to fuck?"

At that, the King punched both fists on the table. The loud bang startled them all, excluding Kate who was waiting for it, and all the items on it clattered around. "Enough. I can tolerate your sass when it's addressed to me, but this manner won't get you anywhere except out of my Palace and I don't care if you helped me kicking the Empire out of Skyrim, understood?" he seethed, through clenched teeth. "Kate has been instrumental in many things, in the past month, first and foremost she kept me alive when all my soldiers died. She didn't try to kill me even though I was unharmed and she never tried to escape ever since I allowed her a little bit more of freedom. Keep your prejudices for yourself as long as you're beneath my roof."

Vivienne shrugged her shoulders. "You're life, not mine. So… Galmar's letter said you had issues with bandits?"

"Seems a recurring problem here," murmured Vilkas. Vivienne jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.

"Yes… as I was saying… we have a band of bandits that's terrorizing the southern part of the Hold and they seem to be moving north. I've sent a message to Riften to ask if they're having the same problems but I still have to hear from them. Kate has outlined a pattern they seem to follow."

"She did what?"

Again, he clenched his fists at the mocking tone in Vivienne's voice. "As a former bandit chief I thought she would be useful at finding them. She sat at the table in my study and started working the same moment I asked her to do it, and never stopped until she had read through every report on my desk. Six months worth of papers."

"How do you even know she worthy of your trust? She spent years leading the most efficient bandit gang of bandits in Hjaalmarch and now not only she's free as a bird but you also bedded her?" snapped the Dragonborn, evidently shocked and angry. "You ordered me to get them and take down their operation, and you were furious as hell as you did it! I thought you wanted them all dead."

"And you were kind enough to remind me of the fact that they had actually never killed anyone during their raids," interjected Castle. Yes, I thought about putting them all to death. Until you said that."

"Because I thought you'd send them to Markhart to work as miners, or whatever! You actually took their leader in your own house!"

"Because when the men supposed to protect me were killed, she took up a shield and took a fuckin' arrow through her arm. An arrow that was going to kill me! You know when was the last time someone did something like that for me? Fifteen fucking years ago! During the assault on Solitude you were supposed to protect me, where were you when Legate Rikke nearly severed my leg?"

 _That explains the jagged red scar that goes around his calf._  Thought Kate.

At those words, Vivienne lowered her eyes and swallowed. "Richard, you know that…"

"You were on the other side of the city already celebrating a siege that wasn't even nearly won! You were bouncing around like a rabbit in the throne room, mocking Elisif and threatening to kill her! You were drunk on violence, all you wanted to do that day was killing as many Imperials and Thalmors you could!"

"They killed my family, Richard!" she lashed back. "They slaughtered them, for refusing to take down our shrine of Talos!"

"The Thalmor killed my parents and burned my house," interjected Kate at that point. A thick, meaningful silence fell in the room before she spoke again. "They chased me through the woods for days, intended to kill me, until I managed to stalk behind the camp they had set for the night, and kill them as they slept. They had made sure that if I tried to go back to Falkreath, guards would have killed me on sight. I was the daughter of a respected Thane in the Hold, and with a snap of their fingers my father became an infamous heathen, doomed to be killed for his faith in Talos and his stark refusal to forswear him. I was lucky enough to be out hunting that day when the Elves came. When I returned home, the house was on fire and I found my parents' bodies hanging from the crossbeam of the main hall. They were reduced to charred pieces of flesh and clothes. Not too far, by the lake, a party of Thalmors was washing blood off their swords. They saw me and they started chasing me through the woods. I was lucky because I knew the forest of northern Falkreath Hold like the back of my hand and they didn't."

"So the remains of that manor I found while wandering around Lake Ilinalta were your house?" asked Vivienne. Her tone had considerably softened.

Kate nodded. "Yes. It was my home. Technically, the land still belongs to me. Anyway, after I killed the Elves, I tried to return to Falkreath, but in the meanwhile they had overthrown the Jarl and put a puppet in the Longhouse. I was outlawed and a considerable bounty was put on my head. Dead or alive. When the guards shot at me, I left with the little I had on me, my clothes, my bow and a small dagger. I had nothing. For months I wandered around Skyrim, trying to survive and gather enough money to buy something that would shield me from the cold winter. One day a group of bandits found me and took me in with them, fed me and gave me warm clothes. The leader, Roy Montgomery, was a Redguard soldier turned bandit when the Thalmor conquered Hammerfell and most of the able warriors were banished. He took many of the misfits left behind by wars and disbanded armies, or even family feuds, and gave them a sense of purpose. He taught us to steal but never kill and to share the bounty with the poor villagers in the mountains around our fort. And so we did. We took what we needed from the caravans, leaving the Khajiit alone as they had enough problems on their own, and we left everyone unharmed. When he was killed in an avalanche as he was taking some supplies to an old hermit in the mountains, the others voted me as his successor. I continued his legacy. We took and we shared. We helped those who couldn't afford the Companions in exchange of some iron ingots or a bowl of warm soup."

As she mentioned the Companions not being cheap, the most famous band of mercenaries in Skyrim, both Vivienne and her husband Vilkas looked down and visibly blushed. They knew she was right. The fees they charged to their employers were high, sometimes high enough that a miner would have needed to give them everything he earned in a year to ask for their help in a simple case of animal extermination. And they were often called to kill a random wolf that had taken residence in someone's workplace or home, basically chasing people away from their source of income. They asked for six hundred septims to kill a critter, often instead of Hold's guards. A miner or a farmer usually earned that sum in three months when things worked. With the war, many people didn't see that sum in a whole year of hard labor. And if people didn't pay them, or couldn't pay them as soon as the job was done, they simply took their stuff away, like supplies, food and such.

Many people thought they were airheaded thugs that hid behind  _tradition_. Other called them loansharks, nothing better than pricy sellswords that bullied people.

They were a bit of both, and they did nothing to change it.

And they knew it.

"He gave us freedom to act as we saw fit, while at the fort, but the moment we stepped outside, we had to behave. Montgomery gave us his discipline and his help when we needed them, when we were stranded with nowhere to go, doomed to die of starvation and exposure," she stopped for a moment, to collect her thoughts. "Yes, we were outlaws. Yes, we committed many crimes. But not nearly as many as other gangs. Like this band, that's scaring everyone in Eastmarch. I was called to pay for my crimes by serving the High King. And I'm doing it the best I can. As a former chief I'm fairly well-versed when it comes to the tactics and the techniques bandits tend to use."

"What makes you think these bandits work the same way?" asked Galmar.

"Because I've done it before. There were other bandit gangs in Hjaalmarch, along with us. We wer the bigger, more organized group, both the smaller parties were usually more desperate and more ruthless. They weren't good for the Hold and well, they didn't do anything good for the business too. If you kill the merchants what do you get? Bloody items few people would want to buy, cutting your share off, but it also means less bandits would come to the Hold. Rob them and they'd hire protection, which is easily diverted or rendered harmless without the use of violence. We tracked down other bandits all the time, in order to get rid of them, one way or another. I used the same technique I used back then."

"How many times has it worked?" asked Vilkas.

"Five out of six," replied Castle.

"What happened the sixth time?" questioned Vivienne this time.

Kate's reply was extremely pithy. "You."

If Galmar had finally softened a little - better, a lot - in her regards, both the Dragonborn and Vilkas had kept treating her like she was nothing more than a lowlife thug that had decided to take a bath.

During the day, Kate had to balance between Castle's inability to let go the disrespectful way Vivienne was behaving and the need to deal with her, explaining the plan she had devised to track down the bandits in the shorter time possible.

The Dragonborn and her husband, both proud members of the Companions, were though extremely cautious about her and didn't trust her at all. They questioned everything she had done in the past two weeks, why she had decided that that place wasn't a suitable hideout, or why that other one was. She had come to the conclusion that there were six possible points of interest to search, out of more than one hundred between caves, partially collapsed mines, tombs and Dwemer ruins, all around the Hold, and yet they kept asking her why that one was right and the other wasn't. Everything she said was underwent such an unnecessary thorough scrutiny that even Galmar had to agree that they were doing it just to see if they could piss her off.

Problem was, Castle couldn't take it anymore. At a certain point, he just burst, literally.

Kate was trying to explain why Dwemer ruins were seldom used as bandit hideouts because of the inherited danger of being around possible still active unknown technology, and why old Nord Tombs were safer, to a certain degree, and why actually caves and mines tended to be preferred, when Vilkas threw in a very derogatory remark that sounded a lot like  _what the hell does a whore from Falkreath know about caves?_ Right when Castle was walking behind him. He heard it all.

And he got so mad he punched the mercenary so hard he fell from the chair, blood spurting from his nose and upper lip. He hadn't landed on the floor yet that the King had already unsheathed his sword and pointed the tip to his throat.

"Say that again," he ordered, peremptory.

"What?" he whined.

"What did you call her. Say that again."

Vilkas grunted. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he shouted.

The tip of the ebony blade in Castle's hand prickled his skin, and a small rivulet of blood ran down his neck to the furry hem of his armor.

"You called her  _whore from Falkreath_. I heard you very well. Now tell me… why?"

"Rick…" interjected Kate. "There's no need…"

"Yes there is!" he snapped. "Now tell me, Vilkas. What do you have against her?"

He groaned, wiping the blood away from his mouth. "She's a bandit. A criminal. She might be in league with these bastards you're trying to wipe out. And you allow that… harlot in your court, in your home, in your bed… you're a fool, and what's worse you're a fool in love." He spit out more blood. "You're making a terrible mistake and you won't realize it until it's too late."

Castle nodded. "Good to know. Now, Vivienne… you've heard the plan Kate devised. You two are free to follow it or do as you please. You'll have money, supplies and horses, anything you'll see fit. Five thousand septims are already on their way to Jorrvaskrr as payment. You can go now, or tomorrow. Just get this idiot out of my sight before I Shout him to a cinder."

Silently, they left the room, taking the map with Kate's notes with them.

"Why did you do that?" asked Kate then. "Did you think I wasn't aware of the fact that something like that would happen? You thought I wasn't ready?"

"No. It's an old thing between me and Vilkas," he replied, sheathing his sword.

"How old?"

"Way older than you and I. I traveled to Whiterun, years ago, to start looking for supporters for my efforts of getting the Empire and the Thalmor out of Skyrim. I tried with the Companions. Kodlak Whitemane, the old leader of the group, was kind enough to listen to me but politely refused to give me us public support, because he believed that the Companions needed to remain neutral, but at least you could talk with him. Vilkas and his brother Farkas though, they were incredibly rude to me that night. They were drunk, partying after a successful contract and they started insulting me."

"For what?"

He took a deep steadying breath. "Because I had allowed a killer to murder my wife. They said I wasn't fit to be a Jarl, as I couldn't protect someone that was sleeping right beside me. I tried to ignore them as I talked with another Companion, a certain Aela you might know her she's very famous, they became violent. They attacked me, because I was ignoring them. Point is: we fought and I won. I humiliated them, and they're still angry for it. That's it."

Kate smiled. "Good to know. Next time though, let him hit you, or have him threaten you, so I can hit him myself."

"Better do it when Vivienne's far away. She's very protective of him."

She nodded. "In any case, I'll have a gag ready."


	10. Chapter 10

The Dragonborn and her husband, Vilkas, left the Palace of Kings as soon as his nose stopped bleeding. The mercenary and Castle kept looking at each other with murderous glares each time they crossed paths in the corridors of the Palace, Kate and Vivienne had a hard time keeping the two men from choking one another.

Once the two were finally out of the massive door, Kate heaved a sigh of relief as he saw the High King's shoulders slump. They could both relax, after the bloody confrontation that had happened just that morning. While Vivienne had been quite understanding and had scolded her husband for his stupidity.

Picking up a fight with the king? While you're sitting and he's standing, on the higher ground? Rookie mistake.

Later that day, things seemed to be much calmer, Castle dealt with his duties as king in the morning then kept all the afternoon for hearings. His subjects in the Hold had waited months to speak to him for various matters, and as days passed, he was slowly taking care of listening to their requests and complaints. Trying to resolve everything was another matter though.

Along with hearings, he held trials for crimes and disputes. He had Alexis in the room, so she could learn the craft of ruling a Hold, for the future, the time she'd sit on the throne.

Ever the diligent bodyguard, Beckett stood, for hours at times if needed, beside the throne, ready to take over in case anyone became a little too violent. In addition, learned something more with each hearing, or trial that took place.

The inhabitants of Eastmarch were hotheaded as any other Nord, but they were also pretty tame, everything considered. She had witnessed some trials or hearings back when she was a child, with her father at the Longhouse in Falkreath, but most of the times, those turned into huge fights. Maybe it was Castle's authoritative presence, opposed to the Falkreath Jarl relaxed and jovial one, but even when things got heated, no one ever lifted a finger. Castle assured her that occasionally something big happened and things got really hot in the hall of the Palace, but lately, with the war over and lives slowly getting back to what it used to be before the Thalmor invasion, such big happenings rarely occurred.

Hence, calmer hearings and trials.

However, something happened, a couple of days after Vivienne had left. They were holding a hearing, a boring one too, about two families feuding over the dowry of the bride to be, when the massive door was pushed open without permit.

Swiftly, Beckett picked up her bow and nocked a steel tipped arrow, then trained it on the door, while all the guards inside unsheathed their weapons in unison.

Which were lowered the moment another guard entered, panting and sweating with exertion. "Your Highness!" he screamed leaning heavily on the door. "Draugr… in the Hall Of The Dead!"

"What?!" replied Castle, standing up.

The guard took his helmet off, letting it roll on the floor. He had a large gash on his temple, it oozed blood down his cheek and neck. "Draugr… it's an invasion. They burst from a wall in the back of the hall… we can't push them back!"

Castle looked at Beckett, then at his daughter. "Alexis, go upstairs and wall yourself and your grandmother in the inner keep. Galmar, go fetch as many men you can and take them to the entrance of the hall. Beckett, come with me."

He stood from the throne and rushed down the hall and out. The sun was already setting, winter reduced the hours of daylight and by four in the afternoon, the city was nearly dark already. And cold. Kate shivered when the freezing air enveloped her. She was wearing a light leather armor, and beneath that, a thin woolen tunic and linen pants, not enough for the harsh weather coming down from Winterhold.

When they reached entrance of the Hall of the Dead, not far from the Palace, they found a contingent of soldiers trying to keep the door closed. From behind the thick wooden planks, she could hear the low-pitched screeching of the draugrs trying to open the door, the clicking of ancient weapons against the steel studs that reinforced the door. The ancient warriors, dead for centuries

"This is bad," murmured one of soldiers around them.

Castle looked at her. "You think?"

The former bandit chief swallowed a lump. She had seen awakened draugrs, many times. As a bandit, she had taken refuge in forgotten tombs and burial grounds many times to escape guards or simply the harsh weather of Hijaalmarch, but never venturing deeper than the first couple of chambers. Tombs and burial mounds in general were dangerous, because you never know if the _guests_ were still dead or had been transformed in draugrs, the walking dead from ancient times.

Like what was happening right there in Windhelm. Something had awoken the once grand warriors resting deep in the forgotten chambers of the Hall Of The Dead, and they were now hunting for fresh blood.

But dragurs were nothing but ages old mummies, the shell of the warriors' that once inhabited those bodies. They were driven by what they did when they were alive: war. They wanted, better, needed to fight, to wage war against someone. They weren't difficult to overcome, and they were only dangerous when in packs. Hideous, yes, deadly? Not so much.

"Could be worse. Castle, you said you know all the words of power for Fire Breath, right?" He nodded. "Good. They're highly flammable."

"Open the door!" ordered then the king.

When the guards let go and stopped pushing against the force of the undead, the heavy wooden door burst open with a loud bang and at least ten draugrs in various states of mummification peeked through the doorstep, swords or axes in hand. Some wore what once was armor, others were completely naked, but they all wanted to fight. And kill.

A draugr's blood thirst was boundless, as the legends said.

Beckett saw Castle take a deep breath before he used his Thu'um, the power of the voice, to Shout.

"Vol Tor Shuul!" he Shouted. His booming voice echoed in the cramped space between the tall buildings that surrounded the entrance of the Hall of the Dead.

Kate couldn't believe her eyes. He was literally breathing fire! The flames, hot as hell itself, wrapped themselves around the charging draugrs, effectively stopping them. The undead, enveloped in the magical but very real fire, whined and groaned with their otherworldly voices, before they fell on the stony ground, on a crumpled heap of charred bones and burned linen used to wrap them before they were buried. Ages before.

When the draugrs died again and the flames dissipated, the small place fell silent. Everyone watched, with extreme care, as the wind pushed the acrid smoke away to see if any of the undead had survived.

Slowly, Beckett walked closer to the mound and with the tip of the sword, started probing the smoldering ashes for survivors. She found none, but what she didn't found scared her the most.

"The Warlord isn't here."

Castle let out a low-pitched groan, while Galmar couldn't contain his disgust and let out a curse that had a couple of young guards turn white then bright red for the embarrassment.

Draugrs, like soldiers, followed orders. The orders of the Warlords, the chief that was usually buried in the utmost chamber, protected by booby traps and, of course, lesser draugrs. But most of those mummies rested in their niches or sarcophagus' for all eternity without ever waking up.

What had triggered their awakening?

And more important: was the Warlord intentioned to get more of his warriors to attack Windhelm?

"What do you want to do?" she asked Castle, sheathing her sword.

The king seemed pensive. "We could wall up the hole, but that wouldn't solve the problem."

"It would only delay the inevitable." They all turned around and found Wuulferth The Unliving, the court wizard, striding between a corridor made by all the curious witnesses of the short-lived combat. The black clad wizard had a bad reputation, many gossiped about him being a necromancer, but in his old age, the mage was wise and knew all he needed to, in order to be a good councilor to the Jarl.

"What do you suggest, Wuulferth?" asked Castle.

"My King, you need to go down and investigate. If your…" he threw a sideways look at Beckett, but didn't add anything offensive after that. "...bodyguard here says the Warlord isn't here, then it won't be long before he sends more draugrs. More dangerous this time. "

"Do I need to go there by myself?"

The mage nodded. "The Warlord has awakened. Your guards would only meet certain death if you sent them to face him. Only someone with greater knowledge of combat can hope to kill the Warlord once and for all. Only then, we will be able to wall up the tomb and forget about them."

Beckett and the king exchanged a long, exasperated look. "Makes sense," she commented. "Does he need to go alone?"

The black caped wizard shook his head. "No, of course not. If you wish to go with him, Katherine Beckett, you're free to do so."

She shrugged. "Could be worse, right?"

Castle ran his free hand through his hair and sighed. "Yeah, could be raining. Galmar, have your men put up a barrier and stand guard. Kate and I need to stock up if we want to deal with the warlord."

"Rick, are you serious? You want to go in there alone?" His second in command was furious. Or simply worried about the High King's safety, Kate wasn't exactly sure.

"Want to come with us?" proposed Castle. "The more the merrier, right?"

"Damn yes I want to come Richard! You can't just waltz into a damn infested tomb as if it's nothing! Give me time to prepare, I'm coming with you."

"You think we can pull this off?" asked Castle, looking at Beckett.

"We survived a bandit assault, and I wasn't even armed. If we go down there well equipped, we can definitely pull this off. Come on, they're nothing but mummies!"

"Some of the Warlords can actually Shout, you know?"

She nodded. "Yes, I know. But seriously, we're three trained fighters against a bunch of bloodthirsty relics of the past. How bad could it be?"


	11. Chapter 11

The trio went to their respective quarters to prepare and stock up on what they needed for the expedition in the tomb. Galmar when down to his office, while Castle and Beckett ran upstairs to his, now their, bedchamber. After Beckett had officially become the High King's bodyguard, he had commissioned to the city's blacksmith a proper suit of armor, specifically made for her. Something that she could wear when on duty that would look good but also would allow her a certain degree of liberty of movement.

The blacksmith, a skilled artisan and great crafter, had delivered the armor at record speed, just a couple of days before. A complete suit of armor made of an alloy of orichalcum and moonstone, the first for sturdiness and the other for its light weight. It was light indeed, but also could withstand the same and maybe more damage than an armor set made of dwarven metal, known for its high resistance against impacts, but with less than half its weight. It had been tailored on her, so it would allow her swift movements and not hinder her as much as something heavier.

A welcomed change from the rough recycled steel she had used during her days as a bandit, with various parts scavenged from corpses she had found on her way, boots and gauntlets came from a dead mercenary she had found on her way to Hijaalmarch back when she was still on the run from the Thalmor, or from captured sellswords or merchants, like the actual chest piece, recovered from a caravan they had assaulted in her early days as a bandit, and the armored pants, taken directly off a lithe mercenary that had been sent to capture them. Practical and cheap, but not exactly made for her. It was bulky and heavy, it made movements quite hard, but it was sturdy enough to keep her safe, for the most part.

The new armor set was there, on a mannequin, ready to be worn. It was held together by a smart system of joints that didn't required clasps or buckles, it snapped closed via small magnets tucked in the metal itself, then the latches could be easily closed with a flick of two fingers in order to keep it securely wrapped around the body. It was incredibly comfortable, polished and neat. Etiquette required that bodyguards too complied with a certain dress code when in court, and while Castle was quite lenient, allowing her to wear simple leather armor not unlike that of a hunter, the courtiers back at the Blue Palace wouldn't have appreciated such apparel. Thus, the new suit of armor.

It was perfect for the Blue Palace in Solitude, with the golden inlay work depicting runic symbols of protection and circular motives typical of the art of Skyrim. Even Firebeard, the picky chamberlain in charge at the Palace, would have to admit it was more than suitable for the High King's bodyguard.

Knowing perfectly well how cold a tomb could be, Beckett added a couple of layers of heavy wool beneath the armor, fur-lined gloves beneath the gauntlets, a pair of woolen trousers so thick she could have gone for a while in thigh-high snow and not get wet and a pair of fuzzy socks Alexis had been kind enough to give her one of the first days of her stay in Windhelm, before the court's tailor could give her a new wardrobe after everything she had been kindly given was lost in the bandit attack. That way, she was sure she'd stay warm, a necessity in situations like that, just like food, fresh water and healing potions.

In the corner of her vision, she could see Castle was following the same course of action. Beneath his own armor, a heavy suit of armor made of the finest reinforced steel, he wore thick layers of wool and leather, to keep himself both warm and dry. The same system the Imperial Army taught to all their rookies, him included. She had learned it from both Montgomery and Esposito, former Imperial soldiers, but he had firsthand knowledge.

"Ready?" he asked, buckling the belt with the sword sheath at his waist.

"Ready. You think Galmar's will be ready?"

Castle huffed, trying to suppress a laugh. "Galmar's always ready. He always wears his armor, even when we simply go out to the Inn for a drink. Damn, he sleeps in his armor! Come, we'll go through the kitchen and fetch some supplies, I don't know how long we'll be down there and a hungry warrior is a terrible warrior."

Down there, they found Alexis and Martha, with a leather backpack, filled to the brim, in front of them on a table. They had already thought about it.

"By Talos' mercy… best mother and daughter ever!" he exclaimed, rushing to their side to hug and kiss them in gratitude. But he had completely missed the somber looks on their faces, filled with worry and concern.

"Dad…" started Alexis, in such a soft voice Kate could barely hear her above the noise of the searing fish on the spit roast, by the fireplace.

"Tell me, Pumpkin."

"Do you really have to go?"

Legitimate question. Kate could understand why she wasn't happy to see her father take up the weapons he had fought so long with and descent in a newly discovered draugr burial ground. Legends after all depicted the draugrs are dangerous foes, and burial grounds were theoretically packed with them.

"Alexis, yes… I have to. Unfortunately, Galmar didn't do much to train the soldiers and if I send them down there to take out the Warlord… or Overlord I don't know which one we will find, I'd be sending them to a slaughterhouse. They can't deal with bandits, what do you think will happen if they have to face the undead?"

The girl nodded, but she still didn't look convinced. "Just… be careful out there, can you do that for me?"

He took a long step towards her and gently pulled her towards him, so she wouldn't bang against the steel cuirass he was wearing. He hugged her as tightly as the armor allowed him. "I'll be careful Pumpkin, don't worry. We'll be back by sundown, tomorrow. I'm sure of it."

Again, she nodded against his chest. "Just… look out for traps. Wuunferth taught me that before sealing the tombs, booby traps were set. Mostly fire traps, maybe rocks falling from the ceiling and sometimes flooding traps… just look out for wires, plates or oil spilled on the floor."

"She's right Richard. Back in the day I performed I used to sing a lot of epic battles with the draugrs. Very few of this ended with the hero coming out of the tomb safe and sound."

He let go of his daughter and hugged Martha. "Don't worry Mother, we'll be careful. We made it out the siege of Solitude, we can make it even this time."

At that, Martha let go of her son and looked up at Kate. "Take care of him, Katherine."

She nodded, feeling her cheeks blush a little. "I will. You can count on that."

* * *

Thing is, fighting in such cramped rooms and corridor, wasn't easy. And they knew it, as soon as they let the guards put up the makeshift barricade behind them.

Torch in one hand and sword in the other, Galmar immediately looked around the place. The niches, three on each wall, were all empty, with traces of recently moved dust. Those were the draugrs that had burst first, or so Kate thought.

"So?" asked the older warrior and Castle's second in command. "What do we do now?"

"We walk. One step at a time," said Kate. "And we behead every dead body we found. Walking or not."

"Even those who don't walk?"

"Most of all those who don't walk," she replied. "You never know when they are going to wake and try to kill you."

So they proceeded. For hours on end, they walked through damp corridors, taking good care of eliminating everything that could possibly start walking and kill them.

Most of them were still in their niches, tightly wrapped in their linen straps, mummified and silent like they had been for ages, but some were very angry and intended to kill them with everything they could find. Mostly old swords and axes that had lost their sharp edge long ago.

Meanwhile, Galmar tripped a couple of times into wires, snapping a fire trap, easily avoided as no one had stepped onto the oil on the floor yet, and a not so working spring-loaded bolt trap. That was jammed, he cut the wire when he stepped over it but the springs had been dissolved by rust many years before. In the end, no one got hurt.

They encountered a lot of dead ends, flooded hallways, piles of rat feces and a great amount treasures and loot. Lots of old fashioned weapons, gems and other riches, left behind to honor the ancestors once in Sovngard, the hall where the heroes of Skyrim went to spend their afterlife.

There was also a lot of junk, seemingly left there just because people didn't know where to put them, like planks, chopped wood forgotten in corners of rooms, tools like pickaxes and saws. Stuff left by the workers that had built the tomb and dismissed because who would care to take so much wood, something that could be purchased and chopped again for less money and effort?

But to them, it was important.

After half a day or maybe more, spent slaughtering undead, they reached a large, circular room with two massive doors that they could close and rest safely for a while.

"For Talos' sake…" snapped Galmar taking off his bear-shaped helm. "Those sons of bitches are tough." He sat on a fallen stone and wiped the sweat from his face. "Fuck this place looks terrible."

Kate chuckled. "If you had this, when you're out in a snowstorm and nowhere else to go, this would look like the best inn in Skyrim."

He sighed. "For once, I have to say you're right."

"Come on guys, and girl…" said Castle dropping his sword and helm to the ground. "We need to rest if we want to deal with the Overlord tomorrow."

"Or Warlord…" said Kate, picking some dry wood and straw from the ground and setting it in an ordinate mound in the center of the room. "This could even be worse."

She then proceeded to light the straw with the flint and tinder she had packed, so they could have some fire to warm up the cold dungeon.

"How come Warlords are worse than Overlords?" asked Rick, sitting down beside her.

"According to legends, Overlords are just that… mummies of Jarls or other important people… they fight but they're less dangerous. Warlords on the other ends were generals or at least skilled soldiers and commanders. That's the problem. Have you noticed how the first draugrs were encountered were pretty much crap, and now we find ourselves struggling more to dispose of them?" The two men nodded. "That's because the closer you walk to the final chamber, the closer you are to their lord, the one they have been cursed to protect."

"You know a lot about old ass stuff," murmured Galmar. "You're a bandit, for fuck's sake! All you should know is how to make Skooma!"

She smiled. She knew that deep down, Galmar had a soft spot for her, one she had to carve to get to, since in the beginning he had been very cold towards her, but he couldn't help but be guided by old stereotypes he couldn't forget. They were just so rooted in his Nord soul he couldn't let them go.

"I actually do know the recipe to make Skooma, even though drugs are not my thing and were prohibited under my rule of the camp."

"You allowed alcohol but not drugs?" asked Castle, as he took the salted beef and the bread his mother and daughter had packed for them.

Kate chuckled. "Try to keep full grown Nords from mead… I guess Galmar has issues with that too." The appointed commander of the army nodded. "No drugs? They were just fine. No mead or ale? That meant mutiny. And despite the fact that I hated being a bandit, I kind of loved the fact that I had my own private room."

Galmar laughed then, as he accepted the simple sandwich Castle had prepared him. "Seems reasonable my dear. But that doesn't explain how you do know so much about draugrs and tombs in general."

She took a bite of her own dinner and chewed slowly. "Well… I've looted a few. Never met a Warlord or an Overlord though… those are second-hand notions I learned through books, legends told by bards at the inn in Falkreath… here and there. I can't confirm those notions though. I have no first person experience with such powerful undead."

"It's way more than what I know, that's for sure. What would we have done without her?" asked Galmar to Castle.

The High King, immersed in his meager meal, shrugged his shoulders and his armor clinked with the movement. "Don't know. If Wuunferth hadn't intervened, I would have ordered to wall up the hole in the wall and forget about it."

"Until the wall would burst again after a second wave of awaken undead would try to barge in the Hall Of The Dead again?" asked Kate.

"Probably. I never had to deal with this kind of shit when I was in the Imperial Army for fuck's sake… give me a break. Hordes of wolves? Done. Xenophobic racist elves? Done that too, aplenty. Bandits? Hell yeah, I fought a pack just what... A month ago? Undead? Those were the bogeymen stories my mom used to tell me when I was a lad to make me behave, I never believed them!"

"Serves you right!" snapped his second in command. "Be prepared for anything! Your father used to tell you that every freakin' day when we were kids! Damn Castle, you're the High King of Skyrim!" he screamed.

"Yeah, and you are the army commander, you were supposed to train our fuckin' soldiers and look what happened!"

Before the heated exchange became something more violent, Beckett jumped between them and shoved them away from each other. "Hey you two, stop yelling like whiny children." It wasn't the first time she had to stop a quarrel, and she was used to resort to violence in order to stop her men from killing each other for a wedge of cheese. "Stop it now or we'll be swarmed by undead any second now!"

They then stopped with the unnecessary belligerence and went back to their dinners. "Good boys. Now… plans for tomorrow or whenever we decide to start going deeper in the tomb?"


	12. Chapter 12

They took turns with guarding. One took vigil and the others slept. Until early in the morning, or what they thought was morning, during Castle's time to stay awake and guard their post, Kate woke up with a loud moan of pain.

The King turned towards her and noticed that she was curled up on herself inside her bedroll, laying on her side and she was definitely pale. "Hey, what's going on?" he asked softly, wiping sweat from her brow. "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head and whimpered. "Cramps…"

"Is it something you ate?"

"No it's just… my period. Came early, hurts like a bitch."

"We have healing potions, you want one?" he pulled his backpack close to him and started rummaging inside it, before she grabbed his hand and stopped him.

"No," she snapped, a hint of desperation in her voice. "It would only make it worse. It would stop the bleeding and that would only make the pain worse… no, I'll woman up, just like I always did."

"You sure?"

She nodded. "Yeah, sure. It's not the first time, it won't be the last. I'll be fine, I just need to eat something and the cramping should subside."

Seemed like it worked. Before they decided to wake Galmar and resume their journey down the tomb, Kate had got some color back to her face and seemed less in pain, though still troubled. Castle offered her the chance to go back, assuring her that they could deal with the draugrs on their own, but she insisted she needed to come too.

"Castle, you saw what happened yesterday… or early today, I don't know. You were at each other's throat. Without me you would have probably ended maiming one another like bandits fighting over the last bottle of mead."

"But you're hurt, how can you fight? You can't reason when you're hurting."

Her gaze bore through him like a hot blade in butter, it was so strong it made him feel like a rabbit being hunted by a wolf, so fierce it was at scolding him. "Well, I've stormed caravans and settlements while on my period, hurting or not. Last week you had an upset stomach and you were so grumpy you nearly sentenced a trespasser to death. Don't talk to me about being in pain and not being able to reason."

The blunt remark left the High King speechless, and he didn't comment further. He caught a glimpse of Galmar laughing softly beneath his thick beard, but decided to let it go. They had draugr to exterminate.

And so they did. It was like repeating the day before. They encountered more undead, better equipped and definitely stronger to take down, but no matter what, they felled through them without much effort. Beckett kept taking them down from a distance with her bow, while Galmar and Castle took care of those that managed to get closer. They scanned each room they entered carefully, leaving etchings on the stone walls to mark down the rooms they had already visited so they wouldn't lose the way in the maze that extended deep down in the mountain where Windhelm had been founded.

"You know…" started Galmar as they checked each mummy in the latest room they had entered for signs of awakening. "I think this is the very first necropolis of Windhelm."

Castle frowned. "You sure? I thought that was the old crypt my grandfather discovered after a wall caved in the Palace?"

The older warrior shook his head, as he stuck the tip of his sword in the chest of a rachitic mummy. "Nope… I mean, look around. The weapons, the etchings on the shields, the emblems on the jewels, they are all much more crude and rough than what we found in that crypt. Also, they are more worn down, as if they have been used more. These guys were left here at least three centuries before that crypt was even dug in the mountain."

He took a sword from the hand of a mummy, dislodged its head so it wouldn't wake up and try got snatch it back, then showed the weapon to them. "See the markings here," he said, running a thick finger on the decorated flat part of the blade. "This kind of decoration is way, way older than anything your grandfather dug up from that crypt. I would dare to say this is older than the Empire itself. Maybe not as old as the Five Hundred of Ysgramor, but it came soon after he docked in Skyrim."

Beckett took the sword from him and studied it more closely. "You mean… this could be four thousand years old?"

The warrior shrugged. "Could be. I'm no historian, but I know a weapon when I see one. And believe me, this is Atmoran steel. No Nord blacksmith forged this sword, or decorated it. This is Atmoran work."

Castle was stunned. "Wow… so this crypt predates Talos and the Empire?"

"By a couple of eras at least. These are late Merethic runes, I think. But I could be wrong, so don't take my words for granted. I told you, I'm not an historian, I'm a warrior that likes swords, that's all." Galmar shrugged his shoulders, trying to back away from the sudden attention the High King and his bodyguard were bestowing him.

"Have you ever seen anything like this?" asked Castle.

He nodded, and his elm slipped in front of his eyes. "Yes, when we went looking for the Jagged Crown. I took the liberty to take an amulet I found in the deepest recess of the tomb, it bore similar marks as this sword."

Beckett sighed, as she gave the sword back to the warrior. "I don't like this."

"Why?" asked Castle.

"Because if this place is so old, I'm not sure we will find either a draugr Overlord or Warlord."

She and Galmar exchanged a worried look. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked.

The former bandit chief took a deep breath. "If all the history lessons I took when I was a child mattered something, I fear we're going to face a Dragon Priest."

Later, deeper in the tomb, they found a sealed door that wouldn't budge, even after they had tried melting the keyhole. It was made of solid oak and even after some pretty strong hacks with Galmar's axe or attempts at Shouting it off its hinges it didn't budge.

"What do we do now?" wondered Galmar.

"Go back and seal the place back?" suggested Castle. "We neutralized all the possible draugrs in the tomb, this door isn't going to open anytime soon… we could just build a wall and forget about it."

"What Castle, are you scared of what's beyond the door?" asked Kate, a little incredulous at his attempt to just go back and forget about that little adventure. "We've made it this far, aren't you even a little curious to see what's ahead?"

"Curious, yes. Suicidal? Nope, thank you. I think I could face undead Warlords and Overlords, but Dragon Priests? I heard Vivienne's tales about those she encountered, and I'm not exactly keen on trying my luck. They're foul creatures, and I value my life more than the boasting rights about defeating a Dragon Priest, thank you."

Galmar looked down at her. "He has a point. But Rick… what if one day whatever's inside here decides it's time to come up and create havoc in the City?"

The King sighed. His friend and general had a point too. He couldn't let such danger dangle on his subjects' heads. They had to go on and take down the entity behind that door. If the draugrs' awakening was prophesying or was caused by its own rousing, they couldn't know, but they needed to take that thing down. Whatever it was.

"Alright… let's see if we can get inside."

They took each a torch and started looking around the room. Not that there was much to look for, considering that the room was spoil and undecorated. It had an unfinished vibe, with the stained plaster covering the walls, a precursor for some grand mural painting or etching, perhaps. Castle carefully searched for everything that could open the door, since it was clearly sealed from the other side, but saw nothing but what should have been the holes in which scones were to be installed.

No, he couldn't see any way inside that room. Or corridor or whatever lay beyond that door.

Until he saw Beckett drop her torch to the ground and unbuckling her armor. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"I think I can pass through there…" she replied, gesturing to a small opening in the wall, just above the door. "I just need to get out of the armor. And I need someone to boost me up."

"Kate, it's crazy! We don't even know what's behind that door and you want to go there unprotected?"

"It's not like we have much of a choice, have we?" she replied, curtly, as she dropped the pauldrons on the ground. "With the armor, there's no chance in Oblivion I'd be able to pass through. You guys, even without the armor, would get stuck in there after your heads went through that hole. I'm going."

The King was about to reply, order her to stop, that he wouldn't let her put herself in danger like that, for a whim and nothing else, but Galmar put a large hand on his shoulder and shook his head. He couldn't stop her, she was way too stubborn to let someone, even the High King of Skyrim, stop her if she intended to do something.

He exhaled a loud, deep breath. "Be careful though," he said, defeated. "We don't know what's in there."

Smiling, Kate stood on the tip of her toes and kissed him. "Don't worry. I'm always careful."

With that, Castle knelt and hoisted her up, so she could reach the hole above the door. She went through easy enough, and landed on the other side with a soft thud. "Hey, there's natural light in here!" they heard her say.

"Do you need a torch?" asked Galmar.

"Nope, thank you."

They waited a couple of minutes, during which Castle was about to self-combust, fearing something dreadful would happen to her while she had left her weapons and armor behind, but then they heard the distant sound of old, rusty gears grinding and the massive door in front of them opened. Kate was on the other side, wiping her hands on her pants. She was covered in dust and cobwebs, but safe and sound. "There you go. Everything is fine, see?" she told them, then walked back in the foyer and started putting her armor back on.

"What if the Overlord was already awake and ready to kill anyone that passed through that hole?" asked Castle, more than a little irritated by her recklessness.

"Castle, please… I'm not some kind of damsel in distress; I know how to take care of myself."

"Oh really? Do you? Going in there alone? Without backup?" His army training was coming back all at once, the notions that soldiers fight better when in larger groups, and not as lone wolves, was making him despise the way she had just acted. "For Hircine's beasts, you could have been attacked the moment you set foot in there!" he shouted.

Kate was visibly taken aback by his reaction, she took a step away from him as she closed the snap hooks of her chest plate back in place. "Castle, are you alright?"

His face twitched in a raging grin, before it turned grave and serious once again. "No, I'm not. This place gives me the creeps, I'm cold, I'm worried and I just want to get out of here. With you acting this careless, I'm worried you could get hurt and I can't stand the thought."

Admitting it made him feel a little better. It wasn't much, not even marginally enough to exorcise his fear of losing her in that maze. Those two minutes, with her on the other side of that door looking for a way to open it, had made him realize that the trauma of losing Meredith still had to heal and that the bare thought of losing Kate made him feel like someone was choking him.

"I'm sorry Kate… it's just…"

She interrupted him and hugged him tight. He felt like being engulfed in a warm cocoon, even with the thick layers of their armors combined. "Don't worry Castle, you're not going to lose me so easily. I survived two years in a bandit gang, I can survive this adventure too. We will survive and then you'll write about it. Make it a novel, an essay, a simple report to leave for whoever will come after you... your choice. But I swear that we will be back at the Palace, by sundown. There's light in that room, it filters from a crack in the rock ceiling. I can estimate it's nearly nine in the morning, considering the angle and quality of the light. It's early, we can be out of here before the sun goes down."

He chuckled. "In normal circumstances, I should be the one making such promises. I'm the man, I should be the stronger one."

"Well, we're not exactly a normal couple so… don't worry too much about it."

They heard Galmar clear his throat. "Not to disturb your little idyllic moment but… we have some undead to kill again. Mind if we do that before we freeze do death? Castle's right, it's deadly cold down here. "

After Beckett had finished buckling up her armor again, they dared to enter. Weapons ready to strike, they slowly walked in the large circular room. Much to their dismay, the found all the nooks in the wall open and empty, with the draugrs all dead, again, on the floor. They were all charred to the bone, the shapes of their skeletons barely visible beneath the old, soot-covered armors.

"I don't like this…" said Galmar.

"Me either…" replied Castle. The idea of a Dragon Priest was becoming more and more a certainty.

And it scared them to death.

There was no central sarcophagus, like in normal Nord burial grounds. The center of the room was occupied by a mound of broken and charred bones, tall enough that the top reached the height of Castle's hip. When he touched a femur with the tip of his sword, it crumbled in a cloud of bone dust and ash.

"Well, those are old bones."

"And my idea that this is a Merethic Era tomb becomes more certain," added Galmar. The fact that the central room isn't decorated like more recent tombs is another clue."

"I don't see anything living… or unliving," said Beckett, arrow cocked and ready to be drawn and shot in case of danger. "It seems like whatever inhabited this place has long since vacated its home."

"Seems like it…" Castle turned around a couple of times, gave a cursory look at the place and saw nothing but dust, ash, burnt bones and charred steel. "But you're never too sure when it comes to t ancient tombs."

"Damn right," boasted Galmar. "I wouldn't be too surprise if we'd find a hidden mechanism that would make the central sarcophagus appear from beneath the floor. Like that thing that blocked the door."

Beckett huffed, softly, but the noise echoed in the large room and sounded thunderous. "Everything alright?" asked the king.

She shook her head. "No… there's something very wrong in this room. It's unnerving. It's like something prickling the skin on the back of my neck, like a gust of warm air."

And the air suddenly became warmer. They felt it, on their faces and even beneath the thick layers of clothing and armor they were wearing. Suddenly, Castle started sweating, the leather gloves holding his shield and sword sudden became wet beneath his palm. They looked at each other and raised their guards once more. A sudden increase of temperature like that, in a place so remote, could only mean two things; an awakened dragon, one that breathed fire, or a Dragon Priest. That could also breathe fire.

A flickering, greenish light appeared behind a large cave in on the farther side of the room. Beckett immediately pointed her bow in that direction, while Galmar and Castle braced themselves and raised their shields. But when the light became a large, roaring fire fed by archaic magic they couldn't do much but cower behind a thick boulder that had fallen not far from their position.

"What the hell was that?" asked Kate.

"No fuckin' idea…" cursed Castle's second in command. "But I'm pretty sure it's a Dragon Priest."

"Definitely a dragon priest," stated Kate. She dared to take a quick peek from the side of their hiding place. "Tall, gaunt, levitating and with a shiny silver mask. The descriptions from the legends match pretty well."

"Nice… my mother will be delighted to know," said Castle, sarcasm filling his voice. "What do we do now? I might know some Words Of Power but… that's not nearly enough to defeat one of them!"

Galmar sighed. "What should we do? Wait until the Dragonborn comes back?"

Beckett shot him a killer look. "And what? Make camp here? It could take months for those two to find them, they had no intention to follow my instructions when they left. I bet they're still scouring the caves south-west of Windhelm."

"Then what?" asked Castle. "I don't want to join those skeletons there!"

Much to his fear, Beckett cocked an arrow in the bowstring and aimed at their enemy, keeping her head low against their stony cover. Nothing happened as she took her time to aim, but the moment the arrow flew through the air with a loud hiss, the green fire flew above her head just a moment after she had ducked to safety again.

"Well…" she said through ragged pants. "We might have an advantage. He's blind."


	13. Chapter 13

"What do you mean he's blind?" shouted Galmar above the ruckus made by the magical flames around them.

"He didn't see me when I was aiming, even if he was looking straight in our direction," explained Kate, palming the floor as she looked for a rock or something to throw and set the Dragon Priest in the wrong direction. "He turned only when I shoot the arrow, when he heard the noise of the bow."

"But… can a Dragon Priest be blind?" asked Castle. "I mean… they're legendary creatures, can they be handicapped that way?"

Kate shrugged. "No idea. But Dragon Priests were once human, right? Or at least Mer, I don't know… he could have been blind before turning into that biped spell-casting wannabe-dragon, right?"

"Could be…" The flames stopped suddenly, and the an eerie silence fell in the large room. Not even a cockroach was running on the floor, nothing.

Beckett decided it was time to throw that rock on the other side of the room. The priest instantly turned to the source of the noise made when it bounced against the wall, at his right, and he started casting spell after spell, adding some Thu'ums here and there just for good measure.

He really wanted to annihilated them.

"What do we do now?" asked Galmar. "If he's blind, I'm quite sure his hearing his doing damn fine!"

"I can see that," added Castle. "So? Any idea? We can't leave him here like this."

Kate dared to look at the priest, peeking from their hiding place, and noticed something about him. He was standing on what looked like a fallen column or pillar, and the crumbled stones formed a sort of protected corridor that ran from where they were hiding, on their right. Maybe they could…

"Guys, listen…" she called them, barely whispering so the priest wouldn't hear them. "Can you make as noise as you can?"

Castle turned towards her so fast his helm clinked against the stone behind him. "No Kate you can't charge the priest on your own!"

"Of course I can Castle!"

"Beckett, hey…" added Galmar in his deep, throaty voice. "You can't think we'll leave you do that. I think we can…"

She vehemently shook her head. "No, stop that right now. I'm doing the assault, I'm not big enough to make noise to cover your big fat asses. You don't even know what subtlety is, you just barge in and kill everything that moves. Look at me, I'm small, wearing extra-light armor that barely makes a noise when I move and I know how to prowl in the dark. And you?"

They looked at their armors and weaponry and realized she was right. A usual.

"Also, I'm the expendable one." She paused for a moment, enough to see Castle's face become pale. "You're the High King of Skyrim, if you die now our land will fall in another civil war and Talos forbid we don't need another war now. Galmar, you're his second in command. Despite of all the shouting and that punch on the nose the first time I saw you, Castle needs you to guide Skyrim. Look at the bigger picture…" she paused for a second and wiped a strand of hair out of her eye. "Where am I? I'm just a convicted bandit playing bodyguard, no one is going to remember me!"

"I'm going to remember you Kate! There's no way…"

"Yes there is. Now go and make some noise. And Galmar, could you lend me your enchanted dagger for a moment?"

He grasped the hilt and pulled it out of the sheath behind his back, then carefully handed it to her. "What do you need it for?"

Beckett swapped her dagger with Galmar's in her own sheath tied to her boot. "Yours is enchantdd for additional fire damage, right? Mine isn't. The more aces to my arsenal, the better."

"So what do we have to do?" asked Castle.

"Have you ever gone boar hunting?" They nodded. "Do the same. Move from cover to cover, avoid his fire and shouts and give me thirty seconds to get there. That's all."

"You make it sound so easy…" replied the commander in chief. "But the plan's solid. And if we separate we can confuse him. She'll be fine Rick, don't worry. She's a tough sweet roll this one."

The boasting remark made her smile. Galmar had been wary of her, at first, but he had quickly warmed up once he had seen she was only there to look after Castle. Not like a servant, not like a steward or a housecarl, never looking up at him, but eye to eye. He was the High King, and she didn't care. And yet there she was, ready to sacrifice her life to save them both.

But it wasn't Galmar's kind words, but Rick's look of pure adoration that she could see on his face, behind the thick layer of steel of hi helmet. It warmed her heart, gave her even more reasons to try and kill the priest while the two men kept him busy. She had to see Castle home safe, not only because she had promised Alexis and Martha, but because she'd die if anything happened to him.

It was her duty as a bodyguard, but most of all, she needed to see him safe. Because she loved him, and she couldn't do anything about it.

"Come on guys, I'm freezing my ass here and I want to be back at the palace before sundown," she spurred them. "Try to confuse him, I'll walk behind him and try to kill him."

The moment they moved and started making noise, banging their swords against their shields like maniacs, the priest didn't know what to do anymore. The loud racket echoed against the walls and confused the blind priest and that allowed Kate to swiftly move from the vantage point and walk in the sort of tunnel made by the crumbled ceiling. She crouched, trying to lower the noise she made even more, and kept a low profile so the stone would dampen the sounds of her steps too. Castle and Galmar were very efficient at making a mess, and that made things easy for her.

She walked slowly, arrow cocked and ready to shoot in case the priest would hear her, but with the ruckus echoing like a spring thunderstorm in an open cave, Beckett couldn't even hear her thoughts.

When she finally reached the other side of the makeshift corridor, right on the platform the priest was occupying, she saw the old creature frantically throwing spells and Thu'ums around in every direction. He was desperate to make the noise stop, to annihilate his enemies, but his fine ears couldn't cope with the damned acoustics of the room. Slowly, the former bandit chief set the bow and arrow down on the floor and extracted the enchanted dagger from the sheath strapped to her boot.

 _Either way,_ she thought _. I'm going to take you down._

She gripped the hilt tightly and exploiting a moment of anguish when the priest put his long, bony hands against his ears to stop the noise, she pounced like a mountain lion on the prowl. She jumped towards him, landing with both feet on the back of his left leg, right behind the knee. She heard the old bones crack under the pressure and the ghostly figure fell on his knees with a loud scream of pain. Around them, she felt a sudden gust of hot wind as he tried to Shout, but she slashed his throat with one swift move. The smell of seared, old flesh filled her nostrils and nearly made her gag.

With the magical properties of the priest's voice voided, she pushed the flaming blade of the dagger in his back, between the ribs and straight into the heart. She was sure it wouldn't be enough to kill him, but maybe it would stop him from casting more harming spells.

She held the blade there, fighting with all her strength against the priest's convulsions as he fought both the steel and the enchantment that were both tearing his flesh apart and searing it, until she saw Castle climb the platform and with a single blow from his sword cut the priest's head neatly off.

The severed, masked head fell on the floor with a thud and Beckett pulled the dagger from the priest's chest, and the room became silent as the tomb it was supposed to be.

"Everything alright?" asked Galmar, climbing up with them.

Castle turned towards him and pulled his helmet off. "Seems like it."

Not completely sure about the actual death of the dragon priest, Beckett grabbed his head by the long, oily hair and inspected it. He really looked dead, well… forever this time. She even dared to remove the silver mask from his face and she barely choked a disgusted cry when she saw the gaunt cheeks, empty eyes and toothless gums. Disgusting to say the least.

"Well…" she said. "Now you can even boast about having killed a dragon priest."

Castle shrugged and took the mask she was offering in his free hand. "Not that I care much, but this will make an excellent addition to the museum at the palace."

"You mean that dusty room Wuunferth keeps closed all the time?" said Galmar. "That place is just a receptacle for bugs and rats, not a museum."

"But it could be turn into one. I'm just waiting for the old man to die and get my hands on his stuff!"

"Rick, they call him Wuunferth the Undying for a reason, that man was old when my grandfather served your grandfather, now he's a decrepit old necromancer that sold his soul to the Daedra, he'll never die, unless the Gates of Oblivion open again!"

"Oh don't be so drastic Galmar! He'll die. One day or another."

"Yes, he'll die the day Morrowind will see the sun again. In another Era, probably. Come on, let's get back to the palace, I can't wait to soak up in the hot tub for six hour straight."

"Wait Castle!" exclaimed Beckett. "What about the loot?"

Both the King and his general turned towards her. "What loot?"

"Legends say there's at least a treasure chest somewhere in here. Let's look around!"

Caste shook his head. "Kate, I'm cold, tired and more than a little creeped out by this guy. The place is safe now, we can come back or send some men down here. Maybe call the College of Winterhold to see if they want to study this place. You know… for research."

"Good idea," added Galmar. "Send Wuunferth down too, for good measure. I'm sure he'll feel pretty cozy here, with all these dead guys."

"Hey, that was cruel. Wuunferth might not be the nicest person in Skyrim, but he never caused troubles."

The general shrugged. "We'll see. Come now. Let's get warmed up."

"But…" she interjected, her voice sounding more like the one of a spoiled little brat about to throw a tantrum.

Castle wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in a tight, one-armed hug. "Come on Kate, you did great. I get it, you want to stay and search for loot. It's the rush of the fight, but deep down you're still a scavenger, and you're used to look for loot soon after a fight like this."

She sniffled. "I'm sorry… it's just that we always looked for valuables after a fight."

He shook his head, smiling wide. "No need to be sorry. You lived as a bandit for two years, it's not something you'd wipe from who you are like a line drawn on sand. Galmar and I, we're soldiers and we're used to this feeling, we know when it's time to leave the battlefield. This place is freezing and we're all sweaty, we must get somewhere warmer before we catch a cold or worse, pneumonia. Agree?"

She nodded. "Yes. And I'm hungry," she confessed. Then a strong stab-like pain in the small of her back made her wince. "And in pain."

He gently kissed her damp temple. "See, we really need to get back at the palace. Come, it's a long way up and I can't wayt to see you naked."

Galmar let out a strangled cry. "For that, I can wait. Beckett, really… promise me I'll never see you naked."

That was a weird request. "Well, I'll do my best but… do you hold anything against women?"

He vehemently shook his head and Castle laughed at her question. "I don't hold absolutely anything against women Kate, it's just that, you see… I don't exactly…"

"He prefers the sight of naked men, that's all," revealed the King.

"Oh…" she exclaimed, surprised. "Alright."

Galmar was as red as a ripe tomato. "You don't mind?" he asked, opening the door that led out of the room.

"Mind what?" she asked. "Why should I?"

He shrugged again. "Some people just don't like it."

"I'm not one of those people. As long as you don't make a pass at Castle, we're fine."

He looked down at her in utter shock and disgust. "Make a pass at him, for fuck's sake Beckett we're like brothers that would be just… no no no no… Not good. Not good at all."

Beckett giggled, softly. "I'm sorry Galmar, I didn't mean to upset you. But… do you have someone special?"

He shook his head. "Unfortunately, my husband died during the war with the Thalmor. And since then, I never met anyone that could even inspire me. So I thought, better alone and serene than remarried and unhappy."

"I like the way you think."

The general smiled and his hunched shoulders relaxed. "And I like the way you think."

At that, Castle smiled. "Ah, nothing better than seeing my best friend and the woman I love getting along. Now, please, let's get out of here before our asses freeze, alright?"


	14. Chapter 14

The return from the depth of the draugr tomb was hailed as a great victory for the King. When the trio emerged from the break in the wall tired, covered in grime and hungry, the population of Windhelm drew a collective sigh of relief as the news of the undead defeat spread. The fact that they had been comfortably sitting with their asses planted just above the tomb of a dragon priest was kept a secret though. Castle didn't want panic to create havoc in Windhelm, and retaining that little detail was the best way to avoid a raging crowd crying outside the palace.

Alexis and Martha welcomed them with an impromptu banquet, along with the tightest hug Kate had ever experienced from someone that wasn't either a parent or a lover.

"So?" asked Martha, ever the curious one. "What happened?"

"Undead mummies, that's what happened!" cried Castle when he sat down at the table. "A horde of mummies, hungry for our flesh."

"And a dragon priest," added Kate while Alexis put a bowl of steaming clam chowder in front of her.

Both the teenager and her grandmother fell silent, and stared at the grime covered pair. "Excuse me?" asked Martha, a look of pure wonder on her face.

Her son grabbed a spoon and nodded, before he attacked his own soup. "Oh yes, a dragon priest. We have been sitting all comfortable for all these centuries over the tomb of a dragon priest."

"But… I thought they only existed in legends and ballads!"

Kate let out a defeated sigh. "So did we. But we were lucky enough, he was blind, enraged not exactly at his prime, defeating it wasn't too hard."

Castle gave her a pat on the shoulder, hard enough to make her whole armor ring. The recoil of the slap nearly made her choke on the spoonful of soup she was swallowing. "And she did it all by herself."

"Oh come on Castle, that's not true. It was a common effort, I just came up with the plan!"

They spent nearly an hour down in the kitchen, telling their story about what had happened in the newly discovered dungeon, while they were pampered and fed until they were so stuffed they felt they'd better roll instead of walk down to the hot spring, to get cleaned up.

Martha, always ready to help and give orders when needed, had a couple of servants prepare the room for the three of them the day before. Galmar had preferred to get cleaned up before eating, so it was a sort of tag race. The met while he was coming up and they were going down, in the corridor.

Unused at seeing Galmar looking so neat, Kate giggled when she saw the huge Nord in a clean, light blue tunic, his hair and beard combed and slightly damp. "Gods, I've never seen you in civil clothes," she laughed, softly.

The big man shrugged. "I rarely wear them," he explained, a bit grouchy. "Now, if you excuse me, I'd love to join young Alexis and enjoy her amazing dishes."

Castle smiled and moved to let him pass. "Stuff yourself up, she's made one of her best clam chowder today. And there's fresh salmon ready to be roasted, if you want it."

"I'll see what's on the menu Rick. Have a nice bath."

Needless to say, Castle and Beckett soaked up in the hot water tub down in the basement for hours, washing dirt out of their hair and off their skin then just for the heck of it.

The gods knew they needed it.

Between the weariness, the filth stuck to their skin like wet moss in dark splotches and simply the fact that they had a brutal couple of days, they lingered in the hot tub more than was recommended, to the point they got a little lightheaded.

Not that they cared much.

The hot water soothed their aching muscles and did wonders for Beckett's cramps, and they emerged from the steamy basement feeling like they had never traveled down the old tomb, constantly bearing their weapons and fighting off reanimated corpses every step they took.

"Thank the Gods we're going to sleep on a real bed tonight…" cried Castle the moment they set foot in their bedroom, already undressing on the way to the huge bed. "Another night in that damp dungeon and I would have seriously considered the thought of committing suicide."

Beckett giggled. "Castle, we were down there for less than two days. Do I need to remind you I've lived in a place like that, minus the undead, for two years?"

"It's the undead thing that grosses me out. Sleeping on the ground? No big deal. Zombies? No thank you." He pulled the thick covers off the bed and slid beneath them with a contented sigh. "You have to admit this is way better than a sleeping sack on the bare ground."

Beckett was taking off her clothes in a less messy way, facing away from him, but still she could feel his eyes plastered on her back as she took the still slightly damp tunic off. The air was dry and warm in the royal bedroom, with the roaring fire in the hearth just behind the bed, and the simple short shift she was wearing beneath was more than enough to keep the chill of the night. Too bad it was so worn that it was quite transparent. His sharp intake of breath as he noticed the see-through clothing and what he could see beneath.

"Yes, it's definitely better than the bare ground," she said, turning towards him and walking to the bed. In the flickering light of the fire behind him, his darkened eyes made him look like a lost puppy searching for some affection. "But you have to admit it was fun, not counting the dragon priest."

She slid beside him and got comfortable on beneath the covers, her head resting on his shoulder and his arm tightly wrapped around her chest. "Yeah, it was fun. For once I wasn't fighting to conquer something, but to protect something," he mused, nose buried in her hair. "By Talos' mercy, you smell so good."

"Your alchemist's a genius when it comes to soap and such. You should raise his wage, you know? He's quick and his products are great quality, he deserves a little more than what you pay him."

He chuckled. "He asked that his compensation was lowered, when his master died last year. He was given a lot of money as inheritance when his teacher died of old age, without a heir, and he came to me asking to be paid per lot of production, not monthly. He said he hasn't earned that privilege yet, and that he could do better."

"Wow… you're surrounded by honest people then."

"I try." As he spoke, Castle shrugged. The movement made her head shift uncomfortably and she pressed her head on his chest to stop him.

"Don't move too much, my neck is still stiff."

"Sorry…" he murmured. "Do you need anything for it?"

"Nah, just to sleep it off… Gods, I'm so tired… I've never been this tired before. Not even when I was chased by the elves."

The king chuckled. "You had the advantage of knowing the territory. This time, it was a blind run for all of us."

"Yeah, we were expecting a draugr, we found a dragon priest…" she mused. "Not many people can come back and say they survived a fight with one."

They remained silent for a while, simply enjoying the warmth and the comfort of their bed, in their bedroom, with no centuries old dead bodies on the hunt to taste their flesh. After the initial scare with the burst wall and the draugrs coming out, things had looked pretty decent but in the end, they had really risked their life. They had survived only because they had exploited the dragon priest's blindness to their advantage, but had it been an able bodied priest in its prime… they would have probably died in a gruesome way in five minutes of fighting.

"I'm sorry I acted like a jerk…" he stated, out of nowhere.

Beckett raised her head and looked up at him. "When?"

"When you offered to sneak in the room unharmed and I snapped. I… overreacted. And I'm sorry about that."

She smiled and kissed his cheek. "No need to be sorry, but I accept your apology."

"It's just… I don't want to lose you, like I lost Meredith… I don't think I'd be able to survive something like that. Again."

So that was it. He rarely spoke of Meredith, but when he did, she could almost breathe in the scent of his grief. Even after so long, it still hurt him to talk about his murdered wife.

"Castle… No disrespect meant for your wife but I can take care of myself."

Again, he chuckled. "I know. And yet… it felt like being torn apart. I know you're serving your sentence as my bodyguard but…"

"But what?" she inquired.

Castle sighed. "Nothing. Forget I said anything."

Beckett abruptly turned so she would face him and propped herself on her elbows. "No Castle, tell me what's going through your mind."

"Alright, alright… Just don't freak out please. It's nothing to be worried about, except for my sanity. When we were down there, while I was waiting for you to find a way to open that door, alone and unharmed, I thought that I would have probably died if anything had happened to you. Losing you would break my heart."

"Right, I gathered that. So, what are you going to do about that?"

"Would you…" he paused, as if to gather his thoughts. "Would you marry me?"


	15. Chapter 15

Beckett paled so quickly he almost thought she'd just had a heart attack. Not that his own heart was in better conditions, threatening to hack its way out of his ribcage by the way it was beating.

Castle remained silent, waiting for her to answer or even just a slap to bring him back to reality, holding his breath.

"Castle, are you insane?" she asked then, a slightly panicked note in her voice, almost a shrill, that made him startle beneath the thick bear skin.

"Yes, I may be, everything considered! I started a fucking war with the Empire and I won it just because the dragon appeared out of nowhere, so yes, I may be completely insane, but I'm serious here Kate!" He stopped for a moment and turned on his back, stretching all the way on the bed. "Would you marry me?"

"Well I'm not averse at the idea but… why asking me now?"

"Because…" He flapped his hands around, searching for words when he had none. "Because if you marry me all this bodyguard thing would be over, and you would be required to follow me around, armed to the teeth."

"But…" Beckett pushed herself up on one elbow to look at him. "I like to follow you armed to the teeth!" she rebutted. "Certainly more than I like wearing tight corsets and skirts that brush the floor and pick up all the dirt from here to Whiterun!"

He chuckled. "I bet you do, but I don't. And I wouldn't require corsets and skirts, for heaven's sake we're in Skyrim not the fuckin' Imperial City, you could dress in full armor every day for all I care…" He took a long, faltering breath and released it through his teeth, with a loud hiss. "It's just that what happened with the Dragon Priest made me think and… I've already lost Meredith in a totally preventable way and I don't want to lose you too. I… I don't think I could stand that kind of pain again."

He felt a lump forming in his throat at the thought of his wife lying beside him that night, with blood spurting from her slashed throat as she gasped for a breath that would never reach her lungs and the short-lived, brutal battle he had engaged with the assassin from the Dark Brotherhood, right in that room.

"You know… she was there, where you're now. We had some dignitaries, from High Rock and we stayed up late, we were very tired when we went to sleep. We said goodnight, she gave me a kiss on the tip of my nose, rolled over and fell asleep. A couple of hours later I woke up, a strange noise filled my ears. It took me a while to realize that it was Meredith, calling my name while she quickly bled to death. The sheets were soaked with blood, she was gasping and thrashing like a wounded elk. The emissary of the Dark Brotherhood was there…" he pointed at the corner of the room. "Enjoying the show. Or just ensuring that his victim died for real, I don't know. And I don't know what kind of spirit possessed me, I just jumped off the bed and onto the man. He was swift, but lacking in close quarter combat. Taken over by wrath as I was, he didn't have the time to take his dagger out of its sheath that I had him pinned down on the floor and I was mauling him, like a bear. I think I broke every bone from his waist up with my bare hands."

He looked down at the back of his hands, then run his left thumb over his right knuckles. Even after so many years, the scars he had earned that night hadn't faded. The thick ridges of skins where the deep scrapes had healed still showed the brutality he had used to beat the assassin to a pulp.

"When I was over, his face was a mass of bloody flesh, his eyes gouged out and his brain was running out of his ears," he said, sternly, eyes fixed to the corner of the room where it had happened. Beckett remained silent, through his tale and listened carefully. "His blood had spurted everywhere, on the floor,the walls, on me… Everywhere. When I was over, I just had the time to run to Meredith and stay with her as she took her last breaths, holding her close and hoping that death would be merciful and come quick. When it finally came… I was calm, unbelievably so. I woke my mother, asked her to take care of Alexis, then woke Galmar. I was still covered in blood when I went to fetch him, in his quarters. His husband, he was still alive at the time, nearly had a stroke when he saw me covered in blood and other things. We planned the beginning of the rebellion that night."

"What happened next?"

He shrugged. "The war," he replied. "And other unpleasant things like Alexis with panic attacks, my own panic attacks, other assassins sent to kill me, more war, the dragons and such. I still dream of that night, from time to time. Even though I did everything I could to erase the traces of that night. I burned the bed, had a stonecutter replace the floor, rearranged the whole room, but it took me four years to sleep again in this room. I camped on the couch outside Alexis' room sometimes, or fell asleep in my study, more often. Life's been kind of crap before you came, you know?"

Kate smiled, but it was only a brief moment. "So I've been told." She lay down again and sighed. "Not a nice story to hear though."

"I know. And I know perfectly well that my timing sucks but… Do you understand why I was so upset when you said you were expendable. You're not! Not to me, at least. You… you were the first person that treated me as a man, and not as a Jarl, a traitor or as a King. You weren't afraid to call me a jerk, or an idiot, when I acted like one. From the first moment! You wiped away seven years of darkness, as if you opened a curtain and opened a window in a walled room. I've been a vindictive, ruthless bastard for years, not even caring for my family as I followed a plan that made sense only on paper but that was leading the land I love to self destruction. All because they murdered her. Had they killed me, there would haven't been any war. Things might even be better."

"They could also be worse. You hadn't declared open war yet and look what happened to me. The Thalmor killed my parents way before you opened hostilities with them. What would have happened if you hadn't driven them away?" she asked him. "We'd have lost our freedom, bandits would have overrun our roads, more Imperial soldiers would have taken residence here to keep a hold on us… then a war would start. You know how bloody stubborn we can be up here."

"Well, as a bloody stubborn man myself, yes, I know. And I stubbornly ask you again; will you marry me?"

She sighed and hid her face in the crook of her elbow. "What would your mother and daughter say, if I did agree to it?"

"They'd be fine. They love you, Kate, I told you countless times. I wouldn't be worried about them, there are other people's opinion to worry about."

"Like?"

"Galmar, but he likes you too, so you're fine with him. Half the court here, the whole court at the Blue Palace… the whole nation I mean… the High King that marries a bandit chief? That's a first. They could think I am really insane, as you implied. But it's not the first time a mad king holds the throne of Skyrim, isn't it?"

She laughed, wholeheartedly, then tried to suppress a yawn as weariness quickly took over her. She nestled her head on his shoulder again, releasing a deep sigh of contentedness. "We'll have everyone up against us, if we marry. Dragonborn in the first line, along with the Companions."

Castle wrapped his arms around her, as if to protect her. "I don't care. I'm the king, I can do whatever I want. As for Vivienne… she's married, happily from what I reckon. She has no right to bitch about our own life. And the Companions can go fuck off for all I care. Vilkas and Farkas were two assholes when they were younger, and they still are. I don't have to sleep with them, and they don't have to sleep with me. They'll be fine, even if I had to pay them to capture you."

"Nice to know that… but what about the court? We're here joking about it, but it's serious. I'd even say yes right away, marry you as soon as we can reach Riften and set a date with the Priests of Mara, but what about that? You're the High King, you simply can't just marry someone like me."

Castle drew in a sharp breath filled with anger. She was right. She couldn't _just_ marry someone like _her_. She was a well-known convicted criminal, still serving her sentence, though he had been judge, jury and executioner and that made it almost a cruel joke of a punishment. Most of all because she was serving the better part of her sentence in his bed. With him. People would certainly talk about it, and not in a good way.

He wondered if it would have been enough for people to send a hitman for them. It wouldn't be the first time an inconvenient ruler disappeared, one way or another, so the Moot would elect a new, more easily manoeuvrable than him.

Wouldn't be first time after all.

But he wasn't the _normal_ king, the usual spineless Jarl put on the throne just because someone thought he could act a little better than the rest. Or at least be driven towards a direction where the rest of the Jarls wanted to go, be it a war, new laws that made them more powerful or allowed them to raise taxes or levies or whatever.

Being the High King Of Skyrim sucked.

"I don't fucking care," he stated then. "They don't like it? They can go fuck themselves. I don't care. I can abdicate, if being King makes me unsuitable to marry you!"

"For fuck's sake Castle no! You can't abdicate just because some people might not like me. I won't marry you if that means you risk losing your throne!"

"I don't give a damn about the throne Kate!" he snapped, his voice getting louder with each word he spoke. "I've sacrificed too much for this land, and in return what I got? I've been called a warmonger, a racist, a reactionary an idiot and a religious extremist… I've been stabbed, slashed, shot at, pushed off my horse, assaulted and yet I drove the invaders from Skyrim… and this is what I get? I can't marry the person I love? What the fuck, are we back to the point when gays couldn't marry? For Talos' sake, that's barbaric to say the least."

Kate smiled and kissed his check. "You say that because your best friend is gay or in general?"

"In general Kate, come on! You know me, I don't discriminate." He stopped, brows knitted as he thought about what he had just said. "Unless you're an asshole. I can't stand assholes, I can't stand myself when I act like an asshole and that's one of the first things I liked about you, when we first met, you weren't scared to tell me I was a jerk."

"Don't tell me this is the only reason you fell in love with me," she giggled as she spoke.

"Not the only reason, one of the many. You know, when you fight back to back with someone who goes above and beyond your expectations and duties and that someone happens to be the most beautiful woman in Skyrim, allow me to have more than one reason to fall in love with you."

She sighed and her warm breath tickled on his chest. "Love at first battle? Well, that's new."

"I don't think so. I mean, we Nords are warriors by nature, we hunt, we fight, we get drunk and repeat. Why not fall in love in between those things?"

"You're such a sap Castle!"

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. "I know. I get all sticky sweet when I'm tired. And when I'm trying to propose to a woman."

"You're really convinced?" she asked him. He nodded. "Is there anything I can say to escape this madness?"

"You don't want to marry me?"

"It's not that I don't want to marry you… it's just that I don't want to see our relationship ruin what you achieved. Castle, you're the King we need to guide us away from the crap of the Empire, we need you to keep it free, as we are now. Yes, we might be neck deep in shit with everything that came before, war included, but we're free for now. And I'd like to be free for a little while longer."

Castle smiled at her words, he felt something warm creeping up his chest. A mix of satisfaction and pure, unabashed Nordic pride. Being half Imperial, though she had lived all her life in Skyrim, Kate had been skeptical of his actions before she had got to know him and she hadn't kept him the dark about it, but in the end she had warmed up to his ideas.

Her approval meant a lot to him.

"Kate, Skyrim is a proud land, built on rock solid bases. We're warriors, we always come out of our troubles alone, without the help of the Empire or whoever was around at the time. We can do it again, with or without me. I was happy to be a Jarl before, I can go back to that without an itch."

She seemed pensive, stare lost in the flames of the hearth as the weighted his words.

"What if we don't tell anyone we're married?" she proposed. "At least not immediately. Let me serve my sentence, pay my debt to justice. Then we can announce we got married. The court doesn't need to know immediately, right?"

"Not exactly, but… it's not like people don't know me down in Riften, if we're seen entering the Temple Of Mara, people will know what we're going to do. I mean, most of the people that go to the Temple Of Mara go there to get married, right?"

"You're the High King, you should be able to find a way to sneak inside the temple without being seen."

Castle burst with laughter. "Gods, you want to elope? It's not like you're pregnant!"

"Right. Did I ever tell you that I love your alchemist? He's the first that made an anticonceptional potion that doesn't make me gag every time I take it."

"Yes, he's great. But, let's say we really get married but we don't tell anyone except the immediate family, keep it a secret until you finish your sentence, let's say… ten more months right?" She nodded. "Let's see… I have to be back at Solitude in two months and it takes about a week to get from here to Riften on horse. If we go on horse, without a carriage, Mother and Alexis can take it. A day to get married and in fifteen days we're back here. Then it's two more weeks to reach Solitude via more conventional travel arrangements, if we take the northern shortcut."

"Sounds like a lot of time on the road."

"You're joking right? When I was in the Imperial Army, we marched for four weeks at a time."

"Well, I was never in the army and when I was a bandit, staying outside for too long could have been deadly. Excuse me if I'm not used to so much time on the road."

Smiling, he kissed the tip of her nose. "Don't worry. It's not that bad, and the southern part of the March and the Rift are amazing during winter. It gets warmer, as you go south, and there are some amazing hot springs, on the way down. It doesn't make up for a good honeymoon, but it's something, don't you think?"

"You're going to wear me out until I say yes, aren't you?"

He did his best impression of a cute little puppy looking for someone to feed him a treat, wide eyes and sad smile too.

Beckett sighed. "Alright, alright yes I'll marry you!"

Castle couldn't help but scream with joy and she cringed, hiding her face in his shoulder. "I already know I'm going to regret it."


	16. Chapter 16

Devising a plan that could be easily put into practice turned out to be a gigantic feat, like killing a mammoth with a blunt sword. They had to find a good reason to sneak out of Windhelm with at least Martha and Alexis for two weeks, but the recent issues with the bandits made it incredibly difficult to find a viable reason to travel all the way down to Riften.

With no invitation from the resident Jarl or a diplomatic mission, the High King didn't have much freedom to move around the cities of Skyrim. Even the travel and stay in Windhelm had to be carefully planned and organized in order to keep him safe. They couldn't just disappear and to hell with it.

Or could they?

"Castle, what if we just sneak out at night? The two of us. We'll travel even faster if it's just us and the horses," proposed Beckett one night after the umptenth attempt at finding a good solution for everyone.

"And leave Mother and Alexis out?"

"How about we send them ahead? You can organize a sort of educational trip for Alexis, after all she's going to take your place as Jarl one day and she needs to know both her own land and her future neighbors, right?" He nodded. "Then send her and your mother with an armed escort down to Riften. Give them the money to pay the temple tax, so they can organize the wedding and as soon as we're there, bam, we're done. No one else needs to know."

Castle set the quill in the inkwell and looked up from the official document he was redacting. "It's a viable idea, it only requires us to sneak away from a guarded fortress, the city walls and then find two horses. I get it, you're good at sneaking, but I'm going to turn into a horse thief!"

"And who said we need to steal them? We can buy them from someone outside the city! There's a stable right? Why can't we buy two horses there?"

"And be seen and recognized? That would blow our cover right away."

Kate sagged in a chair on the other side of his massive desk and sighed. "So we're basically nailed to Windhelm by etiquette?" He nodded. "Well fuck that shit, I'm a fuckin' bandit, I'll find a way to sneak out."

It took her less than a day to find a flaw in the patrol patterns and a breach in the walls, in the elven quarter. They could sneak out without a hitch, but Castle didn't want to steal horses though. But… they still had an ace in their hole. Galmar.

He could move in and out Windhelm without being stuck by a mile long of red tape. He could purchase two horses from the local stables and no one would suspect a thing. He could organize their means of transport and move their baggage outside the city for them.

If they could convince him to help them with their ruse, she was sure they could pull it off.

"I fuckin' doubt any other marriage has taken this degree of planning just to get the bride and groom to Riften," she said to herself while she walked down the dark hallway where Galmar had his study.

She knocked and he invited her in, his low pitched voice growling through the thick wood of the door. She found him submerged in parchment and what looked like provision orders. "Hey, do you have a minute?"

The older, burly man scratched his eyes and gestured her to come in. "Sure. Is Rick alright?"

She sat and shrugged. "Last time I saw him he was eating a cream filled sweet roll and raving about it being orgasmic or something, so yes, I guess he's fine."

Galmar laughed. "Yeah, that's like him. During the war he'd often complain about the lack of sweet rolls, but I highly doubt you're here to talk about pastries."

"Indeed. Listen, it's no use beating around the bush, so I'll be honest. Castle and I want to get married."

The man's face lit up like a oil-soaked cloth too close to an open flame. "Congrat…" He stopped mid-word. "Wait, you can't get married! Technically. The High King is allowed to marry only another noble, if not already married before the election."

"That's why we're going to do it in secret, and we need your help to get out of Windhelm."

Galmar opened his mouth but didn't speak a word, before he shut it and leaned back on his chair. "You guys are out of your fucking mind," he stated. "What do you even plan to accomplice? Rick might be an unconventional High King, but thousands of years of traditions and laws can't be broken just because you feel like it."

"The court doesn't need to know. We're not planning to make it big and have all the people of Skyrim know it by the time we have pronounced the wedding oaths. We actually don't want people to know, that's why we want to sneak away, get over with it and then go back to whatever Castle's routine is in Solitude."

"Well, you might not need to return to Solitude. Rick's attempts to move the court back here at the Palace Of Kings are working. Initially he was supposed to remain here a couple of weeks, but all the bureaucratic crap he's been trying to move and this deal with the bandits in the south kept him here. And he might remain here for good," he explained. "Hasn't he told you yet?"

She shook her head. "No, I guess he wanted to be sure he'd make it work before telling me. He tries not to aggravate me with his _kingly crap_ as he calls it. He says that there's enough pressure on my shoulders because… well, who I am and tries to keep the mess from me."

Galmar smiled, as he gathered a bunch of papers and organized them in a neat pile. "But if you're willing to marry him, you should be also willing to take some of that crap on your shoulders too."

"I am, and lately he shares more, but… I understand why he doesn't want me to know too much. He doesn't like being High King, as much as I never liked being a bandit. I understand the feeling and I don't want to push him to share something he doesn't like."

"Do you though? Share I mean," he asked.

"When I deem it necessary, or useful yes, I do share. Not that two years spent pillaging and terrorizing a bunch of merchant caravans can actually compare with a man that almost single handedly threw the Thalmor and the Empire out of Skyrim."

He chuckled. "Funny. He always tells me he loves hearing your tales about your life as an outlaw. He's also considering bringing your group back together to create an elite squad to hunt down bandits and take capture them."

"Yes, he told me about it, and I sincerely discouraged him from even attempting to do something like this. Among that group, only three people would be willing to do something like that. A crippled bowman, a healer and a half elf bard specialized in sabotage and espionage couldn't do much."

"Way more than you may think, but if you're not sure… alright. Tell me though; are you sincere? Do you really want to marry him?"

Beckett nodded. "Yes." She didn't say anything else, she didn't feel the need to explain further.

"Mmh…" Galmar toyed with the corner of a piece of parchment on the desk, musing on their words. "You know Kate, when Rick sent word he would bring you to Windhelm to help with that bandit problem in the south, I thought he was an idiot. There were many times, in the past, when I thought Rick had completely gone mad, that Sheogorath had possessed him and was now playing tricks on us, through him, but this time, it was the worse. I found myself wondering how could a King want to travel all the way from Solitude to Windhelm with a well known bandit chief in the same carriage, how would he convince you to help and stuff. Then he went missing. You guys didn't appear on time, the storm had rendered all the roads impassable… we thought you had murdered him and all the other guards, trying to escape."

"Must have been a shock to see us appear eight days after the expected arrival date, covered in mud and blood and without the escort crew."

"Not quite as the punch that came soon after that. That was a shock. Anyway, the first few days after you arrived, I was fairly convinced you had bewitched him, in some way. I had convinced myself that after Meredith he'd never find another woman then you just drop in his life and he declares undying love for you? After seven years of self imposed celibacy? It made no sense to me, you know?"

"If it makes you feel better, it still makes no sense to me too."

"I guess so. But then I saw how you two interacted together and realized there was no magic involved. You two had just fallen in love and that was it. And I have to be honest, the way you narrowed down the bandits' possible hideout was pretty impressive."

Beckett smiled. "Perks of being a bandit myself, I know how an outlaw thinks."

"And I guess your plan to elope involves a lot of that, of being an outlaw I mean."

She shrugged. "Were I the one to decide, yes. But Rick wants to do things the proper way, but he's too well known around here, he can't be seen purchasing horses and riding away to the general direction of Riften with his well-known lover and expect people would keep his mouth shut."

"So let me guess, you need me to purchase a couple of horses and bring you supplies."

"See, you're smarter than what you let people think!"

"Oh please, don't let people know that. I like the fact they take me for a warmongering simpleton, it gives me an edge against them they never see coming. Anyway, I'll help you. Just tell me when you want to leave, and I'll do as you say."

A week later, everything was set. Martha and Alexis had already left for Riften on an educational trip. Also Martha was going to visit some old friends of the Black-Briar family, both to reinforce their up to now shaking relationship with the Castle-Stormcloack's cause and to ensure a stock of their best mead for the Palace private consumption. After all they made some of the best meads in Skyrim, it was a good thing to have them on their side, even if during the war the Black Briars looked more inclined to favor the Imperials.

One night, Castle and Beckett snuck out of the Palace, weaseled their way in the Non-Human quarter and slipped outside the city walls through a small and dank hole, probably caused by the erosion of the constant wash of the waves from the Sea Of Ghosts, and walked up a small hill where Galmar waited for them with two horses and their backpacks.

"Finally, I was about to become a human popsicle here!" he exclaimed.

"Hey, next time you try to crawl through a hole wearing a full armor!"

"Been there, done that Rick. Come on lovebirds, hop up and get married, I'll deal with the crap and possibly manage to move the court here by the time you come back."

"Just… try not to force Elisif to take back her role as Jarl, if she doesn't want to. We can find someone else to rule over Hijaalmarch, if she doesn't feel up to it."

"Will do. Now go and try not to get killed on the way down there!"

Kate had been right. By traveling alone on horseback, they were a lot faster and could cover more miles each day than travelling with a full carriage and escort crew. They stopped only to let the horses rest and sleep some hours in hunter's shacks, old mine entrances and whatever could offer them some shelter from the cold winter winds.

It was the only downside of travelling that way, the cold. Despite the warmer climates of the Rift, closer to milder regions of Tamriel, it was still pretty cold and by the end of the day both the King and the former highwaywoman couldn't wait to set foot off horseback and start a fire to warm up.

"Good thing you can start fires so quick!" said Kate one night as they set up camp inside a small cavern. She set some wood they had gathered during the day in a tidy pile and Castle lit it using the appropriate Word Of Power.

"I can teach you," he replied, sitting in front of the now sparking fire. They had also caught a small rabbit on the way, and he proceeded to clean it so they could cook it and eat it.

"Maybe in the future. Now, I just want to warm up a little bit, my fingers are about to fall off."

"Mine too. I was hoping the weather would have been a bit more lenient but in the past three days we haven't seen a ray of sun. I'm marvelled it didn't snow yet."

"Don't jinx it Castle. I can't wait to be in Riften, but if it snows, we'll be there way later than we thought. We already have to take the longer, less beaten road because you don't want to be seen, but for Talos' sake don't jinx it."

He smiled as he set the now skinned animal on a makeshift roaster and over the open fire to cook. "You know, the Greybeards have a Word Of Power that allows them to clear the sky of even the worst stormy cloud. It's the only way to reach the highest peak of the Throat Of The World, where the winds constantly howl and the worst storms never stop unleashing their power over the mountain. The Temple itself is built on the highest peak you can leave on, but the path goes up."

"I guess they didn't teach you that one though."

"Uh uh," he said, shaking his head. "No, they never taught me that word. It could have been useful though. I think Vivienne knows it."

"I wonder if they have found the bandits," said Kate, suddenly realizing that they were right in the estimated territory of the bandits the Dragonborn and her husband were looking for.

"I doubt it," he replied. "They didn't trust you, I highly doubt they actually took your advice and traveled straight down here. They didn't seem inclined to do so."

She chuckled. "Dumb idiots…"

"You can say that." He turned the meat over the fire to roast it evenly on each side. "I never thought I'd see the Dragonborn act that way. Except for a couple of episodes where she did exaggerate, like the Siege of Solitude when she really let control slip and… well, she fucked up a bit, but she always seemed so rational in her way of think and act… I wasn't expecting her to treat you that way just because, well, because you have a reputation."

Beckett let out a quiet laugh. "You call my rap sheet _a reputation_? But tell me, how did she fuck up at Solitude?"

He shrugged a bit, adjusting the thick heavy wolfskin he wore over the armor to protect himself from the howling winds and the frost. "She got carried away. You see, she isn't a soldier. She walked here, all the way from High Rock, to fight against the Thalmor since I was starting to stir a rebellion and the news spread fast, she wanted to fight the elves too, but only because her parents were killed."

"Yeah, I know the feeling."

Castle nodded. "You definitely do. Well, she isn't trained to fight, like a soldier I mean. She was an apprentice mage at the time, she lacked, and still lacks, the training to follow orders, keep position… stuff like that. The fact that she managed to stop Alduin in his plan to destroy Nirn speaks volumes about her resolve and power, but in the end she's nothing more than a twenty three years old Breton that wanted to avenge her family. The moment she had the chance to do so, she lost it."

"And she abandoned the formation to pursue her own personal vendetta, endangering the siege, right?" she asked.

Another nod from the King. "Exactly. The Thalmor envoys had retreated to an easy to defend spot of the Keep, and we were counting on her magic to push them back and break their defences, but she abandoned us to gorge in elven blood, like a good-for-nothing criminal. While we tried to break the Thalmor defences and lost lives because of her fuck up. I nearly lost a leg myself."

Kate took a deep breath and sighed. "I never thought she'd be so… normal. After all, everyone depicted her like a force of nature, and here I find out not only she's human but she's also unruly."

"And has a not so great taste in men," he commented, thinking about her husband, a man he despised with all his might. "Problem is, Vilkas and the companions in general are having a bad influence on her. She used to listen, when I met her. Now? Not so much. You saw what happened when you tried to explain your reasoning, she didn't even wanted to listen."

"Hey, it's not the first time. And I can hold my own, don't worry about it."

They chatted all the way through their meal and soon after that, set to go to sleep. Three more days and they'd arrive to Riften, but they were trying to push it through to arrive earlier than that, so they had a long day ahead of them, and a fitful sleep would help them immensely.

To avoid the risk of their stuff catching fire, they smothered the open fire to the point it was reduced to embers, which released some heat but wouldn't shoot out dangerous sparks that could endanger them. Suddenly, the cave was a lot more silent, without the constant crackle of the flames. An eerie silence fell when they finally slipped in their sleeping bags and lay down to sleep.

Castle was about to fall asleep, the weariness of the long day on horseback washing over him like a wave on the beach, when he heard far away voices.

Instantly, he was sitting up and was unsheathing his sword for good measure. "Did you hear that?"

Beckett turned around and listened carefully. More voices distant voices echoed on the stony walls around them, they came from the back of the cave. "Yeah… five, maybe six men. Some Nord and some Imperials, by their accent." She paused and listened some more. "Maybe more men actually."

Silently, they snuck out of the sleeping bags and scattered the embers that remained of their fire, then grabbed their weapons and blindly walked down the cave to see what was going on.

They found out that the cave didn't exactly end where they thought, but actually went deeper and deeper until it opened on a larger cavern which was inhabited. There were torches and fires burning brightly and when they found a suitable hiding spot, Kate quickly analyzed what they could see.

"Bandit hideout," she declared. "Probably the cave we chose is a secondary entrance to this one, but they clearly don't use it. They probably reach this place from the other side of the mountain. Do you have a map with you?"

Castle searched in a pocket and found a battered map of the area. Kate took a good look at it before she traced a small circle over the area they were with her finger. "Here, you see? This is the general spot I had picked for the possible bandit hideout. And we're currently right in the middle of it. I guess we caught them!"

Castle nodded and dared to take a look down. He counted fifteen between beds, cots and sleeping sacks, a long table and benches, but most of all, a large cage occupied by two people he knew very well.

"Kate," he whispered. "I think they captured Vivienne and Vilkas!"


	17. Chapter 17

Blanching a little bit, Kate took a peek at the large natura chamber beneath and saw the Dragonborn and her husband, both gagged, chained hands and feet to the wall with long chains and thick cuffs. They looked tired, battered and definitely abused, and deep down Kate really hoped the bandits hadn't gone further with their mistreatments.

"What do we do?" asked Castle.

She pushed her hair away from her face and grabbed her bow. "What we do best, we fight!"

"What? We're two, they are what? Ten?"

She grunted. "What in Oblivion, when did being outnumbered stop us? Castle, we went against a bunch of bandits, and all your men that should have protected you were killed five seconds after they attacked. We were outnumbered the day we descended in the tomb beneath the Palace and we came out fine every time. We're a power couple, man!"

He seemed very antsy, ready to grip the handle of his sword and unsheath it, or to cower and go look for reinforcements.

Which would have taken days and they weren't even sure they were closer to the March or the Rift side of the border, and the Rift guards would have probably denied help. On which basis could they even demand help, also? They were nobodies, in the end. Nameless travelers that were probably crying wolf, or better, crying bandits den.

And he knew it.

Ah, the great perks of being a faceless king to the better part of his own kingdom.

After a long moment of hesitation, he finally nodded. "Alright. What's your plan?"

"Why do you always need a plan?"

He raised a questioning eyebrow. "Because I'm a trained soldier?"

"Well, I'm a not so trained bandit that is quite good at sneaking behind enemies and backstabbing them. Want to try with a plan of the sorts?"

"Why don't we try a more secure approach?" he proposed. "You're good with the bow, why don't you just kill them from here?"

"Oh… That's actually a nice idea! Get ready though, we might need to change cover spot sooner than you may think."

Kate set the bow down for a moment, flexed then cracked her fingers. Javi had taught her all she knew about taking people down with a long ranged weapon and his very first lesson was that stiff fingers made for a lousy shot. She crouched and then took the bow again, surveying the area. Eleven bandits. Four of them sleeping in cots and sleeping bags lined on the far wall. The rest were busy in mundane, very bandit-like tasks like gorging themselves in alcohol, cleaning swords from blood and… fornicating in open view.

Crazy as it sounded, she had seen it all and even more. The extreme consume of alcohol, the terrible habit of not respecting boundaries… It wasn't anything new.

Silently, she took an arrow from the quiver and cocked it. The bow, made of an extremely rigid alloy of metal, was hard to use, but the strength it delivered with each shot was absolutely staggering. A well crafted arrow with a decently sharpened tip shot with that arrow could penetrate multiple layers of armor. Those bandits were currently unarmed and unarmored.

Like picking a daisy in springtime…

She pulled the bow back to max extension, held her breath and aimed. When shot, the arrow silently flew across the cave and stuck itself right in the temple of one of the bandits. She ducked back in cover as the other bandits realized there was an intruder and that said intruder wanted to kill them.

"Go around, Castle. Flank them. They won't have time to gear up, if I shot from up here and you attack by the side, we should manage to deal with them quickly."

Castle nodded, but before he moved, he leaned closer and kissed her. "I love you."

"Love you too."

A moment later he moved down towards the inhabited part of the cave, nearly crawling to remain covered behind the stone wall.

Another arrow flew and hit another bandit in the chest. Then two more. Four down, seven to go.

Seven bandits that had already grabbed their weapons and were fighting against Castle. Too bad he was more than ready, better equipped and sober. Or with his pants on. When the majority of the fight moved around the High King, she dropped the ranged weapon and, after having grabbed her own sword and shield, she jumped out of cover and landed, heavily, on the only woman of the group. Beneath her feet, she felt the bones of her back crack and the bandit screamed in pain as she died with a broken back and paralyzed lungs.

Not the best way to die, but… you know… she had other thoughts in mind than the wellbeing of said bandits.

As soon as she was on her feet again, she ran towards him and slashed her way towards him. Four more outlaws went down, three were left standing and willing to fight nail and teeth for their lives.

"Tough sweet rolls these three…" panted Castle as he raised his shield to parry an overhead blow.

"I've seen worse…" replied Kate, proceeding to skewer one of them in the gut. Howling, the man tried to grasp the blade of her sword and pull the metal out of his body, only to cut his palms to a bloody pulp as she extracted it. The sickening sound of churned entrails slipping out a wound echoed in the room, along with the pained wails of the wounded and dying scattered on the floor.

One swift pirouette with an extended arm and Castle cut the head of another assailant, right off his neck, flying head and blood spurt included, like the best heroic tales from a skilled bard. "Yeah? When?"

"When I was shot in the chest."

They charged the last standing bandit, a huge mook brandishing a warhammer, with raised shields in a last attempt to stagger him long enough to hit him somewhere, but that man was like a pole planted deep in the ground, unwavering. And he pushed them back quite a few yards, effortlessly swinging an arm at them. Like they were made of thin paper, and not two solid, armored fighters.

"What the fuck…" moaned Castle, standing up and resuming his combat stance.

"Shout him!" she said. "Do what you didn't do with Thorig. Shout him to pieces…"

"I could make the cave crumble over our heads!"

"Then cook him like a fucking steak, I don't know!" she cried desperately, as she tried to flank the huge man exploiting her smaller and faster frame to get behind him. There was only one problem, the floor was cluttered with loot and with fallen bodies, not to mention slick with grime and freshly spilled blood and moving was quite difficult, while maneuvering a heavy shield, a heavy sword and trying to avoid the deadly blows of a huge warhammer.

"Well, if you put it this way… YUL TOOL SHUL!"

The way his voice changed when he used his Thu'um, the power of the Voice, marveled her every time she heard it. While his normal voice was deep and mellow, fluent like fresh honey being dripped from the comb, when he Shouted it grated like an old mechanism in need of a greasing, so uncharacteristic from him that it made her cringe every time.

But the flames that came with the Shout were also more useful than any blade in that room to take down the giant in front of them. She had to protect herself with her own shield, so she didn't see much, but the man cried out, loudly, when the magical fire engulfed him. When she actually dared to take a peek, the bandit was already on the floor, rolling and trying to suffocate the flames that couldn't be smothered by normal means and that would kill him, no matter what.

Pushed by a sudden burst of mercifulness at the sight of the charred being recognition body, Beckett walked closer to him and ended his pain by pushing her blade straight through the heart.

"Great…" murmured Castle. "Now this damn place smells like piss, shit, sweat and carbonized meat. I think I'm going to puke."

And so he did. With more dignity than Beckett could have expressed if in the dire need to throw up her guts, he walked to an empty corner and vomited. After one final, strained retch, he stood, sheathed his sword and walked towards the two captives.

Vilkas and Vivienne were staring at them, wide eyed in disbelief, as they unchained them and took of their gag.

"I told you they would be in this area…" said Kate, trying to keep her voice from being too jeering.

"Took us a while to get here," grumbled Vilkas. "We had other places to check."

"I know," she replied. "But I had told you that their hideout was probably in this area. You could have started here. You spent more than two months on the road."

"We're Companions, we like being on the road."

Kate chuckled. "Sure you do."

"Are you alright?" asked Castle then.

Vivienne, shoving her mottled strand of hair away, nodded. "As good as you can be after spending a week prisoner of a bunch of bandits. Thanks by the way."

While Kate gathered her bow and quiver Castle, as gentleman he was, led her to the closest table and made her sit, Vilkas too. He then proceeded to gather what was left of the simple but abundant meal the bandits were consuming and offered them something to restore them, then sat opposite of them, shed part of his heavy equipment and poured himself an abundant cup of mead.

When she joined them, he did the same for her and she greedily accepted the beverage. She noticed a bottle of it on the table and took a peek at the label. "Turns out these guys have good taste for mead. Look at this!" she shoved the bottle towards her three companions. "Black Briar stuff. They must have stolen a shipment of it."

Castle took a swig and nodded. "Too bad they can't enjoy it anymore."

Vilkas grunted, amused. "It means we can. But how did you find us?"

"We didn't find you," explained Kate. "We stumbled upon you. We were riding south to Riften when we found shelter in a cave and as soon as we set off to sleep, we heard voices coming from the other end. And here we are."

Vivienne, chewing a large bite of fresh bread dipped in gravy, sighed. "Thank you."

The former bandit shrugged. "No problem." She emptied her cup then uncorked another bottle and filled the pewter jug again. "What happened?"

"Why do you want to know?" growled Vilkas.

"Because you look like crap and I want to know if I slaughtered four men for a good reason."

Long story short, they had fallen in a trap. They had let their guard down, almost convinced that they would never catch the bandits even scouring the entire southern border of Eastmarch for years, when the bandits ambushed them and realizing who they were, decided to ask for a hefty ransom. The envoy asking for it to the Companions was traveling north to Whiterun.

"Good. Now you can go back and spend the winter safe and cozy in your mead hall," stated Castle. "I paid you good money for this job, you should be able to survive months without lifting a sword. Even if we had to do most of the job."

The mocking tone of his voice wasn't lost to the two mercenaries' ears, and they looked down in shame. "Rick… I'm sorry," started Vivienne. "We underestimated this job and… don't send the second half of the payment. We don't deserve it."

Vilkas grunted, but that only earned him a solid, hard elbow between the ribs from his wife. "And we underestimated you, Kate. We let ourselves be blinded by our pride and we couldn't accept the fact that you could really have decided to change your way of life. On my part, I'm deeply sorry and I hope our relationship will get better with time."

Kate smiled and extended her hand. The Dragonborn shook it vigorously. "Water under the bridge. I had misjudged you too, so… I guess we're even."

"As for my gormless husband, I'm sorry for the way he called you, back at Windhelm. I'll have a good chat with him tomorrow, and see if I can make him change his mind."

Castle laughed. "You're up for an impossible task."

"People said the same about defeating Alduin, yet here I am. Also… I have a good ace up my pocket."

"Which is?"

"Guess it's a little private, but let's just say that I might be good speaking the Dragons Tongue, but there's another thing or two that I can do with my own tongue that he likes."


	18. Chapter 18

The reached Riften just in time before a huge storm engulfed the region. Despite being so south in Skyrim, the Rift was commonly subject of bouts of very bad weather, when the winds from the North were heavy enough to reach even the southern border.

They left the exhausted horses at the stables just outside the main gate and were then let inside the walls of the city. The dark clouds above them then decided it was time to release all the snow they had retained up until that moment and they managed to set foot in the nearest inn just in time before the storm blew them away.

"Damn, it's cold…" snapped Kate as she slid in a secluded booth in the corner of the tavern. "Shouldn't the South be warmer? I suddenly feel nostalgic of Falkreath!"

"It's probably a passing storm, one that will be forgotten in a couple of days. What do you want? Soup and ale? Or you prefer mead?"

She shook her head while she rubbed her hands together to warm them. "Ale will be fine. The hoppier the better."

Castle returned to the table with a small tray carrying two bowls of steaming soup, two loaves of rye bread and two huge tankards of freshly pulled pints of ale. They attacked their meal with the voracity of a starved wolf and didn't stop until they were sated.

"What do you think it was? Elk soup?" he asked after they had swallowed the last spoonful of hot broth.

She shook her head. "No, elk tends to be a little more chewy when put in soups. It was probably deer. A very fat deer, if I have to guess…" She took a sip of beer and leaned back against the back of the bench. "My ass hurts…"

He grunted, trying to suppress a loud laugh. "After spending nearly a full day and night on that saddle, I'm not surprised. It's not like my own feels better than yours."

"It might not feel good, but it's a sight to behold all the same…" she joked.

"Well, it's nice to know even my butt gets some appreciation. And yours is awesome too. Anyway, I'll go and pay for a room so we can take off these soiled clothes and rest for a while. After that, we should go to see Laila at her palace."

"Laila?"

"The official Jarl of Riften, while in reality, it's Maven Black Briar that holds all the power. I'm trying to work to remove all her influence in the Rift affairs, but that old crone is as tough as a fucking nail. I'll explain later though, let me get us a room."

The moment they walked upstairs to their assigned lodging, they both fell ungraciously on the bed with a loud sigh of relief as their bones and muscle finally relaxed after two long weeks spent either on horseback or resting for few precious hours on the naked ground, with only the thin sleeping bag to guard them from the chill.

"I don't think I'll be able to move earlier than tomorrow morning," sighed Castle. "I feel like my back and legs are fused together, I can't move."

Kate gave him a loud slap on his armored chest. "Same here. Fuck, I'm not used to this life anymore. I almost prefer marching on foot."

"Oh, if you have comfortable boots and enough clean socks, marching is definitely more pleasurable than riding." He raised his head and looked out of the window. "Hell, it's snowing like in Winterhold… Oh well, I guess Alexis and Mother can wait until the storm has subsided, I don't want to slip in the canals while walking there. I'll go fetch some water downstairs so we can warm it and clean up a little, like the idea?"

With more speed than she thought she had in her, Kate rolled over to straddle him. "What if I have a different idea?" She leaned closer and kissed him, briefly. "We can get cleaned up later."

He hastily pulled off a glove and threaded his fingers through her hair. "As much as I adore how eager you get when you don't get any for a while, I don't feel comfortable enough in this state, so let me get the grime of the road off of me and then I'll let you ravish me in every way you want. Deal?"

With a huff, she rolled off of him. "As you wish, Your Highness."

Castle growled as he sat up straight and stiffly walked to the door. "Oh you'll see _your_ Highness when I come back. Believe me."

Fun between the sheet aside - a lot of fun, she had to admit - they slept in the next morning, nearly missing breakfast time downstairs in the tavern hall. The storm had subsided and now the snow covered Riften in a thick white cloud, but the streets had been sweeped and were now clear and safe to walk on.

Also, the sun shone brightly above the city, and when they decided it was time to walk out of their temporary residence and meet Alexis and Martha, the temperature was warm enough to be oddly pleasant, despite the thick layers of snow around them.

It made the city look like a one big pier submerged in froth. Considering how Riften was built around a canal and on a lake, it wasn't a far fetched metaphor.

"You've never been here, right?" he asked as he led her through the streets of the city.

"No, I admit I never travelled much here in this part of Skyrim. I did my fair share of travel in the West, and on the northern coast. Not to mention to Cyrodill, But never these parts. I bet Riften looks great when it's warmer."

He shrugged his shoulders. "As long as you don't mind sweating seven shirts a day because of the humidity, yes, it's a beautiful city. The Temple of Mara is a small gem, if you ask me."

"I've heard the Thieves Guild has quite an influence around here, though."

He nodded. "Yes and… between them and the Black Briar, there's quite a racket going on around town. Loyalties are weighed by how much your coin purse can contain, and… well, it's a tough situation. The Law Giver were a powerful family once, respected, but as the Black Briar rose to wealth and fame with their meadery, and allow me to be quite blunt about it, their shady dealings, things got more complicated. Riften is a battlefield where soldiers don't use weapons and armor, but coin and subterfuge. One of the reasons I want to be done with the wedding as soon as we can is that the shorter time we stay here, the better it will be."

"You don't seem to like this place too much,"

"Not the place, the politics. Just like Solitude. I like the place, I like the colors, I like the city… I just hate the politics. How everything is smeared with half truths and secrets. That's it."

They reached the government house and Castle pushed the door open and let her in.

In stark contrast with the crisp cool air outside, the palace was too warm, saturated with the scent of wax, mud, unwashed human bodies and wet dog pelt. Kate's nose twitched when the hot, stinky waft hit her, but she managed to quickly school her face and keep a serious expression, unfazed by the bad odor that lingered around and maintain the adapt demeanor for a bodyguard.

It suddenly dawned on her that they didn't have an official invitation, they were just barging in and… she had no idea what the Jarl would say. Sure, Alexis and Martha had warned her that they would come from Windhelm but still, they were uninvited guest.

And they had arrived in the worst moment of all. As they walked closer to the throne, they heard two women screaming at each other and when they came into view, they saw the two women, the Jarl and Maven Black Briar, Castle told her, as they threw accusations at each other about a lost shipment of mead and how the Jarl should do something about the bandits that scourged the northern border of the the Hold.

Castle laughed, softly. "Maven," he boasted, arms wide open in a grand gesture. "My dear Maven, I'm proud to tell you that the issue has been solved, but unfortunately, the bandits had already consumed all your precious mead. Only the bottles remained, scattered around their hideout."

Maven Black Briar, the matriarch of the family and underground ruler of Riften, was shocked when she saw the High King in the Mistvale Keep, Riften's seat of power. Castle had told her the night before that the Black Briars had always been open supporters of the Empire, and for a while she had seized the throne of Jarl of Riften, when Castle had been forced to trade the easily conquerable Rift for the heavily walled Markhart with the Empire, in order to reach a truce that would allow the Dragonborn to kill Alduin. And when the Stormcloaks had marched on Riften and conquered it again, she had been dethroned, which of course didn't please her.

Despite that, she stiffly bowed. "Your Highness, we weren't expecting you."

"Stand up Maven," he ordered. "I know you don't like me and the position I now occupy so don't feign a reverence you don't mean. But, seriously, the bandits that stole your shipment are now dead. We dealt with them."

"You?" she asked, incredulous. "You dealt with them? How?"

Castle raised his eyes, thinking. "Well, some with bow and arrow, others with swords and shields, another was crushed and I cooked another one like a steak. We encountered them while traveling down here. They're all dead. They won't trouble your dealings anymore."

"Oh…" Again, she looked like she didn't believe him. "Thank you, Your Highness. I guess I owe you."

"Don't think I did it for you, those bandits were troubling Eastmarch too," he replied, bitterly, in total contrast with his mellow voice he had used before. "Now, since the matter is settled, you two can stop screaming and Laila can tell me where my daughter and mother are, would you, please?"

The Jarl stood from her throne. "Of course, Your Highness. Your daughter was visiting the orphanage just outside of the Keep. As for your mother, I presume she's still upstairs, in the guest quarters. She finds the library there quite endearing, and with the still unstable season, she rarely leaves the palace."

"I understand, Laila, and thank you for having them here with such a short notice. Now, I think it's time for me to look for my daughter. Would you mind sending someone to ask my mother to join us at the Temple of Mara?"

"Sure, Richard. I'll send someone upstairs immediately. And don't worry at the little notice, your daughter is such a nice girl, she can come to the Rift anytime she wants."

Castle nodded. "Thank you again. Now, we're off. We'll deal with a couple of things here in Riften and leave soon. We won't impose our presence a second longer than needed. Come Beckett, let's get Alexis and finish our tour."

They turned to get out of that suffocating place, but Laila Law Giver stood from the throne. "So you're the famous Katherine Beckett!" she exclaimed. "The bandit turned bodyguard! Alexis speaks so highly of you, I must tell you I'm very impressed of your feats, and thank you for saving our King."

Truly surprised, Kate smiled and bowed at the Jarl. "It was an honor, Your Excellency."

They found Alexis throwing snowballs around with the orphans in the courtyard of their communal house. When she noticed them beneath the arch that led in the small courtyard, Alexis launched towards her father and hugged him tightly. "Hey Pumpkin, having fun?"

"Oh yes Dad! Thank you for having sent me here! I'm learning so much about how _not_ being a Jarl! It has been so instructive!" she revealed, her voice sparkling with glee.

"Oh dear, then I sent you to the right Hold!"

The exchange turned into a quick paced retelling of the recent politics of the Hold, and Kate took advantage of it to wander around the yard among the now very silent kids.

"I thought she was like us!" murmured one of them, a young boy of six years tops.

"An orphan? She said she still had her dad the other day, you dumb piece of wood!" replied a girl, not much older.

At that, Kate knelt between the two children. "Well, she lost her mother when she was very little, she's an orphan too. Only she still has her dad. And he's the High King!"

The two children looked up at her and nodded. "Yeah, I guess," commented the boy. "Who are you?"

"I'm Kate. I'm a friend of Alexis and her dad. I actually protect her and her dad from bad guys."

"The Dark Brotherhood?"

At the mention of the assassins' guild, Kate shivered. "And many more. Usually bandits, but sometime it's Draugrs, or with Alexis' dad, sometimes it's just himself. He's a goof, you know, despite being the High King," she explained.

"Really?"

"Trust me, he is. Just let me prove it." She gathered some clean snow in a compact ball, aimed and threw it at Castle. She hit him squarely in the face, showering him with icy water crystals and making him stutter and startle as he spoke to his daughter.

That started a full blown snowball battle that quickly soaked them all to the point that when Constance, the orphanage runner, came out to check on the children, she screamed in horror and ordered them to get inside and wear clean clothes.

Still laughing like maniacs, Castle, Beckett and Alexis, deprived of their young, numerous company, were left with only one thing to do. They had to go to the Temple of Mara, wait for Martha and see that the clandestine couple of the Era would get married.

"So? Ready?" asked Alexis as she wrapped each arm around Kate and her father.

Kate sighed. "As ready as I'll ever be."

"Same here," replied Castle. "And to be honest, if there's a way to piss off the whole court at Solitude, I think this is the best one."

"Too bad we can't just flaunt it at court. I'd pay a very large sum to see their faces," she admitted. "But this way, it's better."

Martha was waiting for them on a bench in front of the Temple, wrapped in a rich, thick coat that doubled her lithe frame as she sat in the most fashionable way. As she spotted them approaching the Temple, she rose on her feet and squared them from head to boot, shaking her head at their state of disarray given the snowball battle. Not to mention that despite the clean clothes they wore beneath, both her son and her future daughter-in-law were dressed in full armor and battle gear.

"Ah well, an unconventional choice of clothing for an unconventional wedding. Come, everything is arranged, even the silence of the priests."

"Hello Mother," Castle greeted her with a big hug. "And thanks for the help."

She huffed, shoving him away. "Oh, thanks for what? I did nothing after all, it's this girl here, that managed to thaw that wall of ice you had built around your heart. I should be one thanking her."

Sheepish, Kate looked down at the wet pavement. "I've really done nothing Martha,"

The look the older woman gave her was warm enough to melt the snow around them. "You did more than you can imagine. Now come on, let's seal the deal and have some mead, it's too cold out here for my tastes."


	19. Chapter 19

The temple of Mara was a large wooden structure, like most buildings in Skyrim, largely adorned with images of the goddess of love, be it stained glass, sculpture or tapestry hanging from the ceiling down the walls. In front of the main door stood the altar with effigy of Mara, already decorated for the occasion. The priest, a tall Redguard man with a thick beard dressed in the customary brown and orange tunic. Beneath the hood, he was smiling.

"Richard, Katherine, finally you've arrived. Your family has been waiting for a couple of days for your arrival."

He didn't address Castle as the High King. Not even as a Jarl. He treated him like a normal person, rich of course, but normal. Not nobility. Kate wondered if Martha and Alexis had willingly omitted to tell him that the High King was going to travel down to the temple in order to elope with his bodyguard.

"Eh, we've been kept on the way down here. From Windhelm to Riften, you never know the perils you can encounter on the road."

"So very true, unfortunately. Our King is doing marvels to make the roads safe again, but for now, we have to wait. So… ready to get married?" he opened his arms and gestured to the altar behind him. "We have already taken care of the bureaucracy, now we just need to take care of the ceremony."

Kate looked up at Castle, who smiled and nodded. "Guess it's time to tie the knot!"

"That's the spirit, may Mara always keep your thoughts so bright. Now, I understand this is Kate's first marriage while you Richard have already been married, but your wife sadly passed away so you already know how it goes. You see Katherine, the ceremony is very simple, nothing too fancy. There's a bit of a ritual to follow, but it's short enough that you should be able to get out of here for lunch time. I'll babble for a while, you'll say something, I'll declare you husband and wife then you'll sign the ledger and the documents and you'll be legally married. Are you alright with only two guests? Do we have to wait for someone else?"

Kate shook her head. "No, we're not expecting anyone else."

"Oh I wouldn't be so sure about that…" said Martha.

The door opened and Galmar walked in, followed by three other people. Kate felt her heart skip a beat when she realized they were her best friends from the bandit camp, Lanie, Kevin and Javier. "By Talos…" she gasped when they walked down the aisle of the Temple. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Hey, you think we'd miss our chief's wedding day?" replied Lanie as she hugged her tightly. "Apparently, your future step-daughter managed to convince the Empire's second in command to gather and bring us here. We've spent the past three weeks on the road with some grumpy soldiers, hoping to arrive in time!"

"But…" Kate was speechless. "But how…" She looked at Alexis as she stood proud beside her father, a bright smile on her pale face. "I don't understand how or why but… thank you! Did you know anything about this?" she asked Castle.

"I didn't have the faintest idea but…" He wrapped his arm around his daughter's shoulders. "I'm glad you're all here. I've never seen her so happy."

"We're honored to be here, Your Highness," added Esposito. "Thank you for the opportunity to be with our friend."

Castle shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "Oh, no big deal. I assume Galmar here did all the work and forgot to tell me, that's all. It's a pleasure to have you here."

"We've been told it's kind of a rushed decision," said Kevin. "Is there something you want to tell us?"

"Yeah girl!" exclaimed Lanie, keeping her at arm's length. "Is there a little Castle incoming?"

The priest behind them burst in a loud spell of laughter. "Oh you wouldn't be the first nor the last."

Kate shook her head though, vehemently. "No guys, I'm not pregnant. We haven't even discussed children, no really… no little Castle on the way!"

"Good, because if you want to keep this whole thing out of court until you've served your full sentence, a pregnancy wouldn't be the greatest way to keep it hidden right now," snapped Galmar.

"Wait, what does it mean _serve her full sentence?"_ asked Ryan. "I thought we had been all pardoned!"

"Ehm, not exactly," said Castle. "You guys have not been pardoned, your sentences have been turned from time spent in jail to social works. Kate is serving her sentence as my bodyguard, even if her original sentence was meant to have her work with the army to look for bandits," he explained.

"Yeah, great," interjected Galmar. "Now, how about we go forth with the wedding? I told the innkeeper to prepare a banquet and if we're late everything will be cold when we get there!"

"Always thinking with your stomach, uh?"

True to the priest's world, the ceremony was really simple. And he babbled a lot.

"Here we are, in the presence of our merciful Goddess of Love, Mara, to sanction the union of Richard and Katherine, who choose, on their own free will to make their love an official union in the eyes of our law," He winked at Castle when he spoke of the law, the only sign he finally recognized him for his role and title. "And our gods. It's a promise they make to one another to be each other's support in time of hardship and joyful companion in time of happiness. You promise to be faithful to each other, holding the vows you're taking sacred and above any other vow and promise you've ever taken. You chose to do so on your own free will. Have you been forced by adverse circumstances or villainous individuals to come here and get married?"

The shook their head. "No, we haven't. We're here on our own free will and choice," replied Castle.

"You all heard?" the priest asked to the crowd behind them. "Good. Now, love is probably the strongest emotion of all, but as much as it can make us the happiest people on Nirn, it's easy for love to turn into hatred and become destructive. Love is the finest but strongest thread you use to unite the fabrics of your life into one big shawl to use as a place of comfort and warmth. Love can make that shawl look fantastic, if you use to embroider your memories into your life together. But to do so, you will need a second ingredient for your marriage to be firm, stable and satisfying; you will need friendship."

Kate dared to look up at Castle. He looked extremely concentrated on the words of the priest, as if he had never heard them. But he had already been married once, had the ceremony been different the first time? Had the priest that had officiated his first wedding used different words? From her point of view, those words sounded perfect.

"Without friendship, love cannot bloom, cannot move forward from fleeting lust to something more durable, something that could possibly last forever. Without friendship, even the finest, lightest thread will turn into a thick, heavy chain that drags you down in dark and dank places, places where even all the best you could have poured in your marriage can't turn on the light. Love needs to be nurtured and taken care, like the most fragile mountain flower, but too much care can smother it. Despite being united in marriage, husband and wife should always keep their personalities intact. No one has the right to impose their personality on the other, to keep them from being themselves. Though united, husband and wife must retain their individuality, as persons and about their possessions. This is why our laws states that everything the husband and the wife owned before the wedding remains in their sole possession and only what is acquired after the wedding becomes shared propriety."

"No chance I'll be addressed as the High Queen of Skyrim then…" she muttered.

Castle must have heard her, because he chuckled. "Unfortunately, you wouldn't get that title even if we had married before I was elected, there isn't such a title."

"Too bad, a former bandit chief with such a title would probably kill half the court in Solitude."

"So true…"

"Now, on with the boring part of the ritual. I'm compelled, by law, to enunciate all the rights and the duties that constitute the foundation of a marriage."

Castle groaned. "Now that's really boring…"

And in fact it was, but the priest was smart and kept it short, so short that they reached the part of the vows. The priest had them stand in front of one another and let them do the talk.

It was Castle's turn first.

"Katherine Houghton Beckett. You entered in my life in the most peculiar way, grimy, disoriented and dragged down the Blue Palace in Solitude as a captive. I wanted to behead you at first, set you as an example for all the other bandits out there. Then things happened, I changed my mind, I intended to bring you to Windhelm and have you work for your crimes. You did so by saving my life, and not only because you grabbed a weak shield and a dull sword and defended me when my escort party had been slaughtered, earning this scar here," he said taking her left arm in his hands and pulling the sleeve up to show the puckered skin on her forearm where the arrow pierced the shield and the flesh. "Despite not owning me anything and having all the rights to kill me and flee, you stood by my side, putting up with my crap for five long days in that isolated cabin in the middle of a snowstorm. Then everything changed. You changed me, you brought back what I had buried deep down in bloodied soil and snow. You brought back a smile on my face, you made me a better man, possibly a better King, certainly a better father. I thought I would never feel this way again, and yet here we are, defying all the possible rules of court established hundreds of years ago. I love you, Katherine Houghton Beckett, and not even a Dragon Priest could take me away from you."

Kate had to wipe the tears dwelling in her eyes before she pronounced her own vows. Well, before she improvised her own vows.

"Richard Alexander Edgar Rogers Castle Of The Stormcloacks," she started, her voice broken with emotions. "You came into my life when I was at my all time low. I hated you for something you hadn't done and it took all your clemency and some long days in that carriage to see that beneath that armor of cruelty you worn when at court. I don't really know what I must have thought when I decided that it would be a good idea to pick up that sword and help you fight off those bandits, but with time, it turned out to be the best decision I've ever made. That night in that cabin, you showed me that being strong all the time doesn't work, that we're human and we're allowed to show weakness when we feel like we need it. I may have brought a smile back on your face, but you brought hope in my heart, something I had lost a long time ago. I saw a bright light in the end of a very dark tunnel and you were right at the end of it, waiting for me to pull me out of there. You gave me a house to call my home and most importantly, you gave me a family, and it doesn't matter if we have to bend and break all the rules from here to the Imperial City, or if we have to piss off everyone in every court from Riften to Markhart. I love you, Rick, and I'll go against a hundred Dragon Priests to keep you with me."

The small crowd behind them suddenly cheered, and looking at them Kate noticed that Galmar, the big burly warrior, was crying, with tears flowing freely on his face to his now damp thick beard. Actually almost everyone was crying on a certain degree. Even the priest, beneath the hood, seemed a little moved by their words.

"Well," he spoke quietly. "Our goddess Mara will surely be pleased to hear your words. Now, Richard Alexander Edgar… what was that again?"

He chuckled. "Richard Alexander Edgar Rogers Castle Of The Stormcloacks."

"Well, you, born in Windhelm thirtytwo winters ago… will you take the here present Katherine Houghton Beckett born in Falkreath twentyfour winters ago, to be your lawful wedded wife, in joy and sorrow, sickness and health, in wealth and poverty?"

He nodded. "I will."

"Katherine Houghton Beckett, born in Falkreath twentyfour winters ago, will you take the here present Richard Alexander Edgar Rogers Castle Of The Stormcloaks, born in Windhelm thirtytwo winters ago, to be your lawful wedded husband in joy and sorrow, sickness and health, in wealth and poverty?"

"I will."

"With the promise of loving each other to honor the favor our sweet Goddess Mara bestows on you on this joyful day, I declare you husband and wife. Now you can seal the deal with a kiss."

As if springà-loaded, Castle's arms wrapped around her and pulled her into a heated kiss that was definitely not suitable for the place. His warm lips on hers stoked a fire that had been sitting almost smothered by the tension ever since she had woken up that morning and she wound her hands in his thick, slightly damp locks to keep him close to her.

Someone behind them whistled, loudly, and the sudden noise brought them back to reality.

A beautiful reality.

"Get a room, guys!" screamed Galmar.

Castle pulled her even closer and she lay her head on his chest. "We've got it," he replied, his voice reverberated through his ribcage to her ear, a little bit like when he Shouted. "And I intend to use it thoroughly tonight!"

The crowd cheered. "Well, it's the best part of getting married, right?" said the priest behind them. "Now, next step, you need to sign the registry and you're good to go." He handed them a quill each and showed them a big, leather-bound ledger opened on the page where their marriage certificate neatly written on it. They signed with their full names and places of birth and from that moment on, according the common law of Skyrim, they were officially married.

"One last thing before you leave." The priest took a small satchel from a pocket of his tunic and handed it to Castle. "A gift for the newlywed couple, the sizes should be correct but a skilled jeweller should be able to resize it without disrupt the enchantment, The Blessing Of Mara. This ring isn't just a symbol of your union, of the harmony that should reign in a joyful marriage, but it's also the symbol of your commitment in front of the Goddess."

"We'll honor it, then," replied Kate.

The priest nodded. "Good. Now go and have your banquet, the boring part is over, go and eat until you can't chew anymore and get drunk on mead and ale, be merry and enjoy your first day of married life."


	20. Chapter 20

It wasn't a banquet like those served in Solitude, not even close. The Bee And The Barb was a renowned joint for the mead and the fish, products that abounded in Riften for obvious reasons, and the there were at least ten different declinations of fish and mead on the table, when they got to the inn. There was grilled fish, seared fish, marinated fish, smoked fish, every way you can cook or serve fish, they offered it in abundance. Then there were casks of mead, be it sweet, dry, spiced or spiked with fruit and herbs.

But they didn't stop there, as the table was also adorned with plates of meat and vegetables, enough food that they could have fed half the city and still have leftovers, while ending the meal so stuffed they would end in a food coma that would made them sleepy for days.

So they sat down at the table that had been prepared for them, the newlyweds sitting very close together on one end of the table while the others were scattered around, Martha near Lanie, Alexis close to Ryan and Esposito and Galmar right opposite of them, all of them in the mood for some partying.

They delved in then, moving plates and jugs and saucers around, taking a bit of everything in their plates and cheerfully eating while chatting.

Kate was at her second helping of grilled slaughterfish with snowberry sauce when Castle leaned close to her. "You alright?" he asked, whispering in her ear.

"Yeah, of course… just not used to this kind of social gathering anymore. We always have more… private meal when at home," she confessed. "This is just… strange."

"You know what's the strangest thing?" She shook her head. "That no one realized who I am."

She chuckled and kissed his cheek. "Not even when you got the room yesterday?"

"When you have a clinking money pouch filled with money, they don't even ask for a name."

"But you have a secret identity you could use in cases like this?" she inquired, curious.

Castle nodded, smiling. "Yes, I do. I cut down my full name to a simple Richard Rogers. Common, simple, enough that no one would ask a question about me."

"I thought your face was more known around Skyrim."

He shrugged. "Nope, I'm… I'm a fairly unknown High King, and I'd like to keep it that way."

"As long as I know the man I married, I can't agree more with that." She chopped a piece of fish off with the side of the fork, scooped some sauce with it and took a quick bite. "Gods…" she mumbled around the mouthful. "Alexis must get the recipe for this sauce, it just goes so well with fish… really."

The rest of the banquet went on like a normal one, they ate, drank and laughed. Galmar got drunk, between the ale and the mead, he was pretty smashed by the time the freshly baked sweet rolls were served as a quick dessert. Many other guests were well on their way to drunkenness but that was to be expected. As low key as it was, it was still a wedding party in Skyrim with a good percentage of Nords attending, alcohol was expected to flow and public intoxication was the norm.

By the time the sun had disappeared behind the mountains in the west, behind Markhart, Alexis and Martha took their leave and went back to the Jarl longhouse where they were guests, then Galmar managed to pull himself out of his drunken stupor, thanks to countless other hammerings he had experienced in his life, and gathered Kate's former crew to escort them back to Whiterun, where the would travel to their posts.

"Thank you so much for coming," said Kate dragging the three of them in a collective hug. "It meant so much to me."

Esposito chuckled. "For us too, Chief. Take good care of him, he seems like a nice guy."

"He is Espo, he is. I was so wrong about him, you have no idea."

"Glad to hear this whole thing turned out alright for everyone," said Ryan. "When he started pulling us out of prison one by one, we were kind of worried about you, guess in the end things turned out better for you than for us."

"Oh believe me, he's quite a handful to deal with. I'll have a hard time keeping him safe and sound until I serve my sentence."

Behind her, Castle laughed. "Like you don't have fun doing that."

Kate shook her head, laughing. "I didn't say it wasn't fun, I said you can be a handful. There's quite a difference!"

"Most of all since you got in bed with him," interjected Lanie, making the newlywed couple blush at the double meaning behind her phrase. "Come on girl, go and have fun with your husband. He's fretting a bit."

Beckett threw him a glance from her shoulder and he was as red as a mature tomato. "Stop embarrassing him like that, Lanie!"

"Actually, she's authorized," he spoke behind them. "On someone's wedding day, it's customary to embarrass the bride and the groom in different ways before saying goodbye, at least here in Skyrim. For good fortune, you know? You've never been to someone's wedding?"

She thought about it for a moment. "I have but… I was very young, I think my parents didn't do it because I was too young."

He smiled, briefly. "You should have seen some weddings I've been invited to. Thank you Lanie, for the good luck charm."

"Mmh," he Redguard mused for a long moment. "Maybe you're not as dumb as we thought. Well, High King Castle, it was a pleasure to meet you and to wish you good luck with your marriage. Now take good care of my girl. She's a tough cookie, but there's more than a bandit chief, beneath the armor."

Kate felt someone pulling her by her hand and when she took a step back, she landed against Castle's broad chest. "Don't worry Lanie, I've made a personal quest out of taking care of her. Have a nice trip back to Whiterun, all of you. Galmar?"

His second in command groaned an unintelligible series of sounds and random vowels as he donned his heavy cloak. "Uh?"

"Make sure they get back home safe and sound. We'll head back to Windhelm in a couple of days, maybe a week. My mother and Alexis will move from here tomorrow, they'll be home some days before us. Take good care of them, alright?"

"Don't worry Ricky, I've learned the lesson from last time. Now go and have fun with your beautiful wife. I'll make sure her friends go back to their posts unscathed."

At that, Kate took a step towards him and standing on the tip of her toes, gave him a quick peck on the beardy cheek. "Thanks Galmar, for everything."

Galmar suddenly turned all shy and coy. He huffed some words but no one understood and gently pushed her back. "No problem," he murmured in the end, scratching his beard. "Come on guys, time for us to get on the move. The carriage won't wait for us any longer and if we linger, we'll definitely ruin the party for them. Say goodbye, we have a long road ahead."

It wasn't like they were in a hurry. Most newlywed couples were extremely eager to be left alone for their first official night together because that would be literally their first night _together_ , but they already had nearly the whole season together, it wasn't like they were virgins or anything.

And yet, when their friends and family left the inn, they both sprinted upstairs like a pair of horny teenagers. Castle only stopped by the innkeeper to tell him not to bother with them the next morning, they'd come down if they'd ever need anything. The argonian barmaid gave him a cheeky nod as she pulled a pint of ale from a cask on the counter. "Will do Sir. Should I leave some refreshments outside your door later? That girl looks feisty."

"Oh believe me she is. And yes, something to drink for later would be great, thank you." He moved towards the stairs but stopped after the first step. "Now that I think of it, how about you pull two pints and hand me a bottle of mead? You know… in case we get thirsty."

A minute later, the skilled barmaid had pulled to fresh pints of ruby ale with a thick layer of pinkish foam on top of the glasses and had fetched him a bottle of their best mead. She carefully placed everything on a tray and handed it to him. "This is on the house, Your Highness. You'll pay the rest when we will settle the payment for the room, when you leave."

"How long have you known who I was?"

The argonian female chuckled, but it sounded more like a hiss, given her reptile-like race. "Since the beginning. I figured you didn't want people to know you were here so… I kept my mouth shut."

"I'll pay you double, count on that. Now excuse me, but I have a wife to satisfy. See you tomorrow!" he called when he finally stepped on the stairs and disappeared.

"Don't disturb my other clients!" he heard, just a moment before he pushed the door open and finally entered their room.

"What took you so long?" asked Kate, taking the tray from his hands and setting it on the small desk in the corner of the room, while he shut the door behind him and locked it with the key for good measure.

"Drinks," he replied. His voice seemed strange to him, slightly breathy to his ears. "You know… in case things get too hot."

Then Kate grabbed his belt and pulled on it, hard, until he was forced to walk backwards until he fell on the bed, square on his back. Swift as a sabercat, Kate hopped on the bed herself and straddled his legs.

 _By Talos' mercy, what did I do to deserve such a woman?_ He asked himself when she leaned down and kissed him, her lips harsh and demanding against his own. She tasted of mulled wine, honey and a spicy hint that was just her. Just Kate Beckett, the bandit chief that stole the High King heart and took an arrow through her arm in the process.

Gods, she was perfect.

"Feel different?" he murmured when she pressed her lips to his neck, just above the collar of his thick shirt.

She gently bit at his pulse point. "No, not much. Tipsier than usual."

"Yeah we drunk a lot but… you're not regretting this, right?"

Kate pushed herself up on her arms and looked down at him. Her eyes were dark and smoky, almost hazed but it wasn't the alcohol. "Not one bit. Are you?"

He gave her a forceful shake of his head that made the bed quake beneath them. "No, not at all. I wouldn't have asked you in the first place. I just wanted to be sure."

Groaning, Kate sat up. "Castle, really? You're supposed to be naked and very happy to be that way, and you're asking me if I regret marrying you? What's going on in your head?"

"The same thing that was going on in that cabin! You know I'm extremely insecure and it always pops up at the worst times!"

Her slightly annoyed face softened in a gentle smile. She grasped the lapel of his shirt and pulled him to sit up, then wound her arms around his neck and kissed the tip of his nose. "Stop worrying about us. First, I'm not a damsel in distress you rescued somewhere down the line and that never speaks her mind, I was taught to speak up when I see a problem, and if I don't want to do something, no matter how much you can insist, I won't do that. Second, don't let what Lanie, Espo and Ryan said about what I thought about you think that I still hold the same opinion. Yes, there has been a time when I hated you, but not the person, the idea."

"The idea?"

She nodded. "I told you, when I lost my parents I blamed you. What I heard about you made me think you were just a pompous ass that liked to play Warlord against the Thalmor, hiding behind the freedom of worship thing. But I've lived so far away from you that all I heard was second hand words from people that hated you, consider that I've lived quite close to Solitude for nearly two years, of course I hated you."

"But you changed your mind, right?"

"Castle, for fuck's sake, I fuckin' married you alright?" she laughed. "Now, I didn't know about the humiliation in exchange for good luck thing, but I'm well aware of what a husband should do now. Would you kindly get naked now, then?"

He didn't reply. He didn't say anything at all actually. He simply flipped them over and quickly divested them both while Kate laughed so hard she could barely breathe. It still amazed him how ticklish she was.

There was something that was different though, he felt it deep in his skin. And he was sure she could feel it too, by the way she moved, the way she looked up at him. It _was_ different, no matter how they felt. They were married, a union blessed by the Gods. They wouldn't be frowned upon anymore, at least not for their illicit liaison. Skyrim was pretty open, but sex out of wedlock was still frowned upon. There was still that tiny little detail about her life as a bandit but they didn't care, not at the moment at least.

They were bound for life. Two threads coming together, becoming stronger, two lives becoming one. It made all the difference in the world.

The air felt electric around them, Castle could even feel the power of the Thu'um tingling in his throat every time a sound escaped his mouth and he found it increasingly difficult to keep it in check. He had no idea if the Power Of The Voice could be unleashed even without the proper words though.

At some point, Kate make them roll again so she was on top of him. A thin sheen of sweat made her skin glisten in the flickering candlelight. It was already dark outside and the small fires burning in the room were the only source of light in the room and the dim illumination made her look like the most perfect statue of a goddess. With shaking hands and unsteady breath, Castle dared to touch her, run his palms on her thighs and up her hips to her ribcage. As she moved above him, eliciting the sweetest pleasure in both of them, she looked like she was an ethereal being, not from this plane of existence.

His hips moved in counterpoint on their own accord, engaged in a rhythm that made them both go mad. "Can't…" he groaned, his voice broken with the exertion. "Can't hold much longer…"

Nodding, Kate moved faster. "Right behind you Rick…"

They abandoned any form of self control then. It was a breakneck race to their orgasm. Kate reached it first, gritting her teeth and throwing her head back as she arched her back. The loud moan she let out when she finally started breathing again was music to his ears. If only he had the chance to hear it all… because when his own orgasm hit, not two seconds later, the thrum of his rushing blood in his ears deafened him. He felt like passing out. Maybe it was the alcohol, but apparently, his head couldn't take it and for a while, shut down anything that wasn't necessary to keep him alive.

When he finally managed to regain some semblance of control over himself, he found Kate comfortably nestled at his side with her head on his shoulder. Quickly, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders to keep her close and pawning around the bed, managed to grab one of the thick bearskins that adorned it and throw it over their rapidly cooling bodies. Despite the stove downstairs that brought some heat even to the rooms, the air was cold.

"Damn that was great…" he murmured wiping sweat from his forehead. He was sure his hair was all messy and floppy, sticking to his head.

"Yeah…" Kate lifted her head and pressed a warm kiss to his chest. "You were right though, to ask if I felt different."

"Oh, why?"

"Because this…" She slipped her free arm from the thick cover and waved it around the bed. "This was different. A lot different, don't ask me why. I just felt it."

Castle pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. "Yeah, I know. I felt the same."

"Was it the same with you and Meredith?"

"Oh come on you can't mention my dead wife now!"

"I can and I will. Now, spill it, was it like this with Meredith?"

He closed his eyes shut and nodded. "Not to this extent, I mean, I didn't pass out but yes, there was something different. I guess it's that sense of officiality… the fact that now you're in a more socially accepted situation. I mean, I don't care much for what other people think but it's still pretty rooted in society, to frown upon unwed couple that have sex."

"And with being married, that frowning goes away. Uh, I never thought about it that way. My idea of falling in love and getting married was a more romantic one. I guess I spent too many nights listening to bards and their ballads in taverns and inns," she explained.

"What was that idea?"

"I had come to think that I would understand I was really in love with someone the moment all the songs would make sense. And they would make even more sense once married. But I guess your reasoning makes more sense."

"Well, I like your reasoning more. It's more… hopeful?"

Kate nodded, smiling. "Yeah, and it's strange, you're the one with hopeful views on the world, I'm more realistic, usually."

"Well, like opinions about people, even those about love change with time."

"The world would be an extremely dull place if we didn't change idea from time to time. But… you know what? Now I need a drink, want some?"

"Now that you mention it, yes… all the great sex makes me thirsty. I want to stay well hydrated for round two."

Kate, who was sitting up, stopped mid-movement and looked back at him. "What makes you think there's going to be a round two so soon?"

"Because I know you?"

Laughing, she threw him his shirt, which she had found on the floor beside the bed. "Jerk."

"Yet you love me," he stated, taking the pint of ale she was offering to him.

"You go me there."

When they had finished their drinks, she set the empty glasses on the table and sneaked back beneath the thick cover and resumed her warm position at his side. "Do we have to go back to Windhelm?" she asked.

Castle sighed. "I fear we do, sooner or later. Why? You like it here in Riften? We can buy a house and come from time to time, take some days off when things seem to go smoothly in Skyrim."

"No, it's not that. It's this weird sense of normality I've had while travelling with you in the past two weeks. Despite the bandits and whatever… It felt more normal to me. I mean, I like it in Windhelm, a lot, but…"

"But you're used at being free to go wherever you wish, whenever you want. I understand, really. Listen… I think I have an idea. I know it's not much but it's something. Why don't you gather some people and from time to time go out and hunt for a couple of days? I've seen how good you are with the bow, and fresh meat is always welcome in the city. If you prefer to go alone, do as you please. You could familiarize with the March and do something you love. You told me you used to hunt a lot when you were younger."

"Yes I did. And it's a good idea, now that Spring is coming, it's even viable. Wow Castle, you are really quite smarter than I thought!"

He chuckled. "I'm smarter than lots of people thought. But your opinion matters more than theirs."

"It better, I'm your wife for fuck's sake!"

"Oh yes, now you are. And I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."


	21. Chapter 21

Their short sojourn in Riften turned out to be longer than they had expected. Not because they were kept by some adventure in the city or delayed by a storm or a pack of bandits on the way back, but simply because they lost track of time. Lost in their little world that didn't go further than the main hall of the inn, and strictly for meal time, they forgot they had said they would leave in a couple of days, and when they finally packed their things and walked down, the owner made them realize they had remained longer than they had thought at checkout.

"Your Highness, excuse the boldness, but you need to pay two days more."

Dumbfounded, Castle looked at the argonian. "What? We stayed that long?"

She nodded. "Eh, yes, you did. Kinda forgot you have a nation to rule, I guess." She handed him the receipt while he fished for the necessary coins from his pouch. "But, if I have to listen to my husband, with a woman like that, you can't be blamed."

"Well, yes… tell that to all those people that plan to stab me in the back every day in Solitude."

"Don't mind them, Your Highness. Just find a good bodyguard and go on your own way. You've done good so far, don't let those pro-Empire noble throw a branch in your works."

He sighed. "I'm trying. Now, everything settled?"

"Yes, everything is done. Now go back home, the real marriage starts now."

 _Eh,_ he thought. _Wish you knew…_

They hastened their way back to Windhelm and managed to return by the date they were expected, and thank Talos they did because a dispatch had come just before them, calling him to Solitude, as an Imperial Envoy had come and required his presence to discuss some things. What things, the message didn't say, but apparently he wanted him there.

Castle didn't take it well and spent most of the day grunting, cursing, groaning and shouting orders around as he desperately tried to condense all the bureaucracy required to temporarily transfer government powers to Galmar, since Alexis would come with them to the court in Solitude this time. According to the king, it was time the young girl saw first hand how bad the situation could get in the High King in court and why he was fighting so strenuously to reinstate the court at the Palace Of Kings in Windhelm. It wasn't only a matter of tradition and history, but also because Solitude had been overrun with politicians and sycophants that catered to one thing only: their profits. The situation wasn't exactly better in Windhelm, but the harsh roads and the closeness to Winterhold and its perennial storm drove away those people and elfs that wanted to live easy. Solitude was easier to reach, with its harbor and nice paved roads all the way from the border with Cyrodill to the gate of the city, and that meant easier movements and better stock of precious goods. Those who desired to live comfortably had houses in Solitude, not in Windhelm.

So they barely had the time to unpack, wash their clothes and pack again and they were back on the road, this time in a comfortable carriage and with a large enough security detail to discourage even the toughest group of bandits. Kate was pretty sure her presence wouldn't be needed at all, nor during the trip or during their stay in Solitude, but Castle had adamantly refused to leave her at home, no matter how hard she fought with him to remain in Windhelm. She didn't want to hinder him or cause distress in court, with all the snobs that would surely be scandalized when a convicted bandit turned up back in Solitude as the official bodyguard of the King. All the effort was for naught, he practically dragged her with him and Alexis.

"Well, when one of those nobles you despise so much will question you about how I ended up being your bodyguard, I won't come to your aid, you're on your own for this!" she declared when Galmar shut the door of the carriage behind her.

"Oh for fuck's sake Kate, let them talk all they want, I don't care what they have to say!" He sprawled on the couch of the carriage and dragged her closer to him. "As long as no one makes a pass at you… we'll be just fine."

Kate and Alexis exchanged a look that shook their heads, knowing how liberal he was with the public display of affection, but they still had at least two weeks on the road so they had time to prepare for any annoying situation they might get them in trouble.

They rested where they could, sometimes setting up camp by the road if they were too far from villages. The season was getting warmer and travelling was easier, and sleeping outside wasn't too bad after all. At least for the soldiers, Castle and Beckett, Alexis kept complaining and she didn't stop until they reached Solitude, twelve days later.

Castle's entrance in the throne room was something to behold. He mustered all his determination, wore his best cloak walked the long aisle and up the stairs with heavy footsteps until he had Elisif, Firebeard the steward and all the nobles speechless in front of him. With his towering height he exuded authority and turned everyone on the room into a mute codfish. After a moment of uncertainty, Elisif stood, still silent, and bowed in front of him. He did the same, with respect and offered her his hand, which she took and shook. After that, she moved away from the throne and he stepped towards it, then graciously sat on the colored cushions.

"Thank you Elisif for holding the line while I was away. Next time I'll leave, I'll move the court back to Windhelm and leave you to deal only with the Jarl's matters, be sure of that," he spoke softly, with true admiration for the widow of his predecessor and her political prowess. "So? What's the daily program?"

And that was it. One smooth entrance and Castle was back on the throne, no ceremony, no fuss, just the normal dealings of a High King. Firebeard had the servants look for a worthy chair for Alexis and didn't pay too much attention to Kate as she took place at Castle's side, even though she was heavily armed and was wearing a full suit of armor. High Kings were supposed to have bodyguards after all, and she doubted the court steward actually remembered her face. After all, he had seen her only once, when she was battered, bloody and covered in grime and muck, there was a high chance he didn't recognize her at all.

For the first day, nothing happened except standard administration. They spent the day dealing with small issues, despite the fact that Castle actively called for the Imperial Envoy every hour or so, but the guy didn't appear. Nor he sent word to the throne room about why he wasn't coming and other excuses like that. Each unanswered call made Castle grunt and groan louder and longer and by the end of the day, when the steward called for the end of the working day and everyone left the throne room, but they remained there for a while longer.

"See Alexis?" he asked when everyone had left. "This is one of the reasons I want to move the court back in Windhelm. We're playing on their turf here, and that makes them comfortable, while I'm not, and they know that. It should be the opposite, I should be in control.I want them to constantly be on the edge, not knowing what to do and say and if they said the right thing or not, I don't want them to be so careless with what they say and do at court. And this obnoxious state of laxity that plagues Solitude will change, sooner than they think."

"You have everything ready to move things back home?" she inquired.

Castle slid down the throne in a more comfortable but definitely not so kingly position. "Yes, I do. Galmar and your grandmother did their research and we have prepared all the documents necessary to push through the moving quite fast. Come on now… let's get to dinner. I don't know you but I'm starving."

* * *

The next day, things got a bit different. After a long and comfortable night on the softest bed she had ever experienced, even softer than their bed in Windhelm, they moved to the throne room and finally, around midday right before they went to lunch, the Imperial Envoy appeared in the threshold right in front of them. Kate chuckled briefly when the Alt Mer, or High Elf as they were known around Nirn by the common folk, pushed the heavy door in a vain attempt to recreate Castle's triumphant entrance the day before and failed miserably. Failed because first and foremost he wasn't nearly as bulky and tall and Castle, on the contrary he was quite slender and a bit on the short size, shorter than the average elf. And when he spoke, she barely contained the full blown laugh that his high pitched voice almost unleashed.

The elf was followed by a thick crowd of bodyguards, assistants and secretaries that carried everything he needed, while he had with him only the robes he wore. The technicality of his message didn't mean anything to her, it all sounded like gibberish nonsense spit out with a nasal voice that made her smile every time he spoke, what piqued her interest, in a way she dreaded and chilled her down to the bones, was a member of the escort party, the only human among the cluster of knife ears. Tall, blonde and with piercing blue eyes, she recognized him, despite not having seen him for years.

The mercenary that dwelled in Falkreath inn for weeks at a time, offering his services to whomever required them. She remembered a pudgier version of them man though, as he was probably weighed down by too many pints of ale and inactivity. Back then he sported a long beard and even longer hair, in the common fashion of Skyrim, and dressed in a lightweight but comfortable suite of leather, padded armor and a heavy iron helmet always rested on the table beside him, but now he was clean shaven and wore his hair cut short and combed back with a little grease added to keep it from sticking in every direction. Forgotten was the patched up armor of the sellsword, he now dressed with a fashionable dark overcoat with gold trimmings and large mother of pearl buttons that comfortably rested at his knees. He had a nice pair of black trousers, made of thick, soft wool and knee high leather boots, and he looked so different from the almost haggard man that used to woo her over every pint she served him and, with time, had won her trust to the point she had allowed him to be her lover, for half a year.

And now he was there, standing behind the Imperial Envoy as he puked a river of words that meant nothing to her, just like she was standing behind the High King, protecting their employers. She found herself gripping the hilt of her dagger, resting comfortably in its scabbard tucked in her belt for quick reach. She let it go with a start, not wanting to attract the wrong kind of attention on her with the wrong attitude.

The encounter lasted way longer than necessary. The envoy was asking Castle to rethink his stance about Skyrim place in the Empire, which was to stay as far away from the bureaucracy as they could, while keeping an open trading system that would benefit both sides. The envoy spoke on behalf of the Emperor, or so he said, and advocated for at least the constant presence of an Imperial envoy at court, as an advisor in the matter of foreign policies and such, things Castle had vowed to never reintroduce in his stay as High King, because the Imperial presence at court, in the same way the elf was now proposing, was what had started the process that had brought Skyrim on its knees in front of a Emperor that now acted only as a proxy with true government, with all the power held in the hands of the Thalmor. The war had started because of the Thalmor and their extremely strict policies that limited the personal freedom of everyone that lived in Skyrim and Castle couldn't allow that.

And apparently, he was intentioned in reinstating the same policies that forced him to move war against an Empire he had loyally served for years. He let the elf speak, never interrupting him as he went on his tirade, but once the short elf stopped vomiting words, he stood up and replied, word for word, to everything he had said. Only in a way shorter manner.

"With all the due respect, sir, you come into my throne room, the place from where I rule for the best of my people, unannounced and a day later than when invited, only to tell me to reinstate the very policies that have brought Skyrim and the Empire at war with one another? Again, with all the due respect, I thank you for the time you devoted to move from the Imperial City to up here, braving the cold and harsh roads, but my answer is no. I won't have an Imperial Envoy at court for no reason at all. I won't impose additional taxes for all the exported goods, I won't allow the Thalmor to retake the manor they had seized with brute force from the family that had owned it for generations, and for your information those were my cousins and you guys ruined their home for your own pleasure, and I won't let any Thalmor Justicar on Skyrim soil ever again, not until I'm alive and able to raise a sword. Now go and tell your Emperor he can call a contract with the Dark Brotherhood on my life, I don't care, just get out of my sight right now before I reenact the scene that deposed your puppet from this very throne!"

Maybe a bit harsh, but Kate found his brief speech way more compelling than the long tirade of the elf, and apparently the courtiers agreed with her, as they applauded their King with emphasis.

"And now, if you please, it's way past lunchtime so if you'll excuse us, we have a meal to eat. You're dismissed, and don't you dare to return before the change of season."

Livid, the elf turned on his heels and stormed outside the throne room, while all the courtiers followed him and his flock of guards and aids. On his part, Castle flopped down on the throne and sighed. "Gods, I hate the elves."

"No Dad, you don't hate the elves," interjected Alexis. "You hate the Thalmor and what they mean for Skyrim."

He ran a hand over his face and sat up straight. "Yeah well… them. I should really stop saying that I hate elves, there are so many elves living in Skyrim that have suffered racism because of my speeches addressing the Thalmor were too broad instead of specifically against them that I feel really bad about it."

"And you have acted correctly in that regard," continued his daughter. "You made laws that forbid blatant racism towards any race, but you can't do much if common folk has become accustomed to be racist towards Elves, Orcs and Kajits. I wonder though why Argonians are somehow more accepted."

"Because they integrated better than other races," said Kate then. "The moment they set foot in outside their land, they made sure they would integrate in society, they worked along the races that hosted them and thus Argonians are seen a little better than other races. Not so better but at least they're not shut in ghettos and other secluded enclaves."

Castle sighed. "One day or another I'll give Orcs freedom to live where they want too…" He ran his hands through his hair. "What do you think Kate? You think I handled it well?"

"Well… from what I understand of political jargon, yes you did. I admit I was a little distracted though, didn't pay too much attention to whatever you two were saying."

"Is anything wrong?"

The worry in his eyes warmed her heart. "No, nothing wrong, it's just that… you saw the man in the Envoy's group, among the elves? I knew him, long ago. He was a mercenary that… that worked around Falkreath and stationed at the inn while there. I told you I worked there when I was younger."

"Oh…" Suddenly he sounded jealous. "Sounds like an important patron, if your remember him so well."

"Well, there was actually something…"

Alexis stood up almost immediately. "And I'm out. You can discuss your former lovers without the teenager in the room. Join me in the dining room when you're ready!"

Castle looked up at her, once Alexis left the room, now more curious than jealous. "So? There was something?"

Kate nodded. "I think we talked about him, somewhere down the line. He was cute, polite… I was young and naive. We had an on and off thing for about six months, nothing serious, it passed with the change of season when he moved south looking for warmer climates but, you know… your first is always important, one way or another."

"Ah so he was your first! Any other secret lover left around Nirn I should know about?"

Since they were alone, she allowed herself to stare him down and give him a gentle, playful slap behind the head, then ruffled his hair. "Yes, a few. The perks of being a bandit for two years, men come and go. If they haven't died in the meanwhile, there are quite a few men out there that have shared your privileges!"

Her sincere declaration baffled him. "Quite a few? Damn it Kate, how many men have you bedded?"

She snorted, suppressing a bout of laughter, and stepped off the pedestal that hoisted the throne, then headed towards the door. "Castle, come on, I'm starving!"

She heard him stand and walk behind her. "Oh come on, you show me yours I'll show you mine!"

Kate stopped at the door and looked at him, all flustered. "Men…" She shook her head. "You want to know, but you really don't want to know."


	22. Chapter 22

The verbal scuffle with the Imperial envoy wasn't quickly forgotten, not in court and not in town. Word came from the local inn that the most common matter of discussion around meals and late night pints. There were people in favor of Castle's policies, in keeping apart from the Empire as far away as they could. Other would prefer a softer stance, and maybe even some Imperial troops and legions, but Castle was adamant about that. No roaming Imperial patrols, not after they had kicked them out, fighting hard and losing many lives to achieve such a goal.

The envoy though kept trying. He requested daily private meetings with the King and during those meetings he tried his best to make him change his mind. He offered a great deal in exchange, from lower import taxes to even a whole region of Cyrodill to pass under Skyrim's rule, but there was always something that made Castle refuse all his offers.

The Elf kept asking for the apostasy of Talos' cult. The Thalmor were requiring the very thing that had sparked the civil war, they wanted Skyrim to forsake their god, their protector, the man so worthy that the gods made him a god himself, made him their equals and made him ascend among the Aedra. Castle could deal with anything, from the presence of the Imperial Army on Skyrim soil to an Evoy or Ambassador in his very court to observe his work and report back to the Imperial City, but he had sworn to himself and to his people to protect their freedom at all costs. That meant to never relent about Talos' worshipping and not letting the Thalmor back, ever again.

But, out of courtesy, he relented and had the Elf speak his mind and provide his ideas every time he requested a meeting. He was always polite, every time they met, and despite the obnoxious high-pitched voice, all meetings were concluded with a smile and a strong handshake from both parts.

Until the last time Castle allowed the elf to partake a meal with him, in private. It was a windy spring day, the strong gusts brought the chill from the Sea Of Ghosts inside the Blue Palace, despite its thick walls and strong shutters at every window, so the luxurious lunch was taken in the King's private quarters.

Unlike official meals and banquets, taken in the great all with all the due reverence and opulence, private meals were usually more subdue and spartan, in a way. By the King's request, the cook had prepared some of Castle's favorite dishes, all traditional and very simple in both their preparation and service. A rich clam chowder, followed by a simple grilled steak with boiled potatoes and a thick mustard based sauce. Everything was accompanied by a selection of fine imported wines or local ales and meads. The Elf didn't look too happy about the food the King provided, but he played along.

What he could barely disguise though, was the contempt when he realized that also Alexis and Kate would participate.

"Your Highness, excuse my boldness but, why are your daughter and bodyguard also present? I thought this was supposed to be a private meeting, that we were supposed to be alone."

Castle smiled, sardonic, and sat in front of him, thus allowing everyone else to sit themselves. "Because my daughter will soon become a ruler herself, and she needs to learn how to conduct negotiates, be them official, as those discussed in the Great Hall, and those not so official, as those discussed in front of a shared meal. As for Kate, let's just say I feel safer when she's close by."

"Do you perceive me as a threat?" asked the elf.

"No, not in a conventional way. But please tell me, you were speaking of a new proposition, when you asked for this meeting, weren't you?"

"Ah yes." He downed a spoonful of soup and badly hid his distaste for it. "A while ago I sent a dispatch to my superiors back in the Imperial City, to inform them of the way the negotiations were doing and I received an answer to my questions, just the other day. I was allowed to offer new conditions for an alliance between Skyrim and the Empire. Something more… lax, if I may offer my personal opinion on the matter."

 _Color me intrigued…_ he thought. "And what would these conditions be?"

"We are agreeing to not demand an Envoy in your court, nor we demand the presence of the Imperial army on Skyrim, but we cannot relent on one single matter. In order to have a prolific, untaxed and free in every matter trade between the Empire and Skyrim, we urge you to forsake the worship of Talos."

Castle was pouring ale from a pitcher into his cup and his hand suddenly became unsteady and he splashed some of the amber liquid on the wooden surface. "Is that all?"

"Yes. That's the only condition. If you do so, if you forsake Talos the false god, the Empire will be more than happy to open more favorable trade routes. You will be also granted the region of Bruma, which is traditionally populated by Nords and more inclined to Nordic… feelings, if you forgive me the lack of a better word."

The King nodded, but he didn't say anything. He exchanged a quick look with Beckett, who gave him a subtle but noticeable wink, and Alexis, who held a stony face that made her look like a statue made of the purest marble.

Still in silence, Castle finished his soup and discarded the wooden bowl on a tray beside him, then he picked a clean plate and took one of the steaks from the serving plate, along with plenty of potatoes and a spoonful of sauce. "You see, Savlor, here's where we have to agree we disagree." He cut through a piece of meat and quickly chewed on it. "Here lies a big problem. A decade or something years ago I was a young but proud legionnaire in the Imperial Army. I would march, build a camp, fight, remove that camp and march again the next day if my commander would ask. I thought the Empire could do no wrong. Then your bosses did something. They wanted more from the Empire they had already conquered twenty years before, they wanted more than slavery, more than territory, more than your Justicars roaming around like nobody cared. You wanted more, and I fought, I was captured. I was tortured. And I was left to die, by your bosses. But I was let go, I recovered, I built a family and stopped caring about you. I had a city to administer, a Hold to rule, and hell if it took me time and struggle, I didn't care much for what happened down in Cyrodill."

He grabbed the cup made of polished excavated horn and took a long sip of ale to clear his throat, then placed it back on the table with more force than needed. "Here in Skyrim we work, every single day of our lives, to plow the lands and sow and reap, to hunt and fish to procure what we need to sustain our families. Even us Jarls and Kings have callouses on our hands from farming, or hunting, or because we get our hands dirty in a way or another. And that's what I did, while your bosses took great care of destroying everything that us men had tried to rebuild after the Oblivion crisis. I was ready to accept the incoming laws, I would have them respected. The taxes, I would have made sure people could afford to pay them. But you guys had to strike us down even more, and make illegal the worshipping of the god we felt closer to our hearts. That, I could not accept. I couldn't stand for it, I protested it, and your bosses called for a contract with the Dark Brotherhood on my wife. The mother of my child. They thought it would stop my very vocal protest."

The elf swallowed, clearly uncomfortable. "I wasn't aware of that."

"You couldn't just let us live, could you? We're warriors, yes, but we're mostly hunters, builders and farmers. We're simple people and we don't bother anyone, and you come and strike us down even more by taking away our god?"

"Talos isn't a god, Your Highness."

"Says who?" snapped Castle. The sudden jerk made the elf startle in his seat, but the King found his composure quite quickly. "You wanted to take away something that forges us, down to our very soul. We fought to take it back, we lost our brothers, sisters, fathers and mothers and daughters and sons and they bled for our freedom, only for you to come here, at my table, and ask me to order my people to forsake something they fought so daringly for?"

"It's for their best."

"I'd rather trade with the Volkihar Clan than to abjure Talos to trade with you," he declared, his voice cold and sharp as the steel of Skyrim's swords.

The elf looked at him, straight in his eyes, for a long moment then sighed. "I see we can't reach an agreement."

"Not with these terms."

The envoy nodded, then put down his spoon and stood. "Then I guess my time here is useless. Thank you for your time, Your Highness, and the food. Lady Alexis, it was a pleasure. Have a good night."

When the elf left and closed the door behind him, the atmosphere instantly became less tense and the three of them let out a collective relieved breath. "I'm the worst High King in the history of High Kings," muttered Castle, reaching for the ale pitcher and refilling his cup. "Only inbred madmen did worse than me."

"Oh I wouldn't be so sure about that, Dad," replied Alexis. "You've been in charge for such a short time, you can always prove you can do worse than them too."

Castle let out a grunt that sounded a lot like a laughter. "Yeah, something like that… What do you think, Kate?"

She shrugged her shoulders and raised her own cup of ale, then clashed it against his. "I think you're the best High King we could have wished for."

"You say that just because you're my wife."

She shrugged again. "Could be, Or maybe I say it because I'm a devoted worshipper of Talos. Pick one, neither is wrong."

* * *

That night they both exaggerated with the drinks and ended up collapsing in their bed still half dressed with their day clothes. The next morning, when they woke up, both of them had to recognize that they had drunk too many pints of ale. They took great care with washing the awful aftertaste away with cleansing paste and toothbrush first and lots and lots of fresh, clean water and a healthy, abundant breakfast.

As they sat at the small table in their private quarters, they took their time with their meal, as if they were pondering over it.

"You look pale, Castle," said Kate at some point.

"Too much ale. Gods I feel awful," he whined as he stirred the remains of his oatmeal in the bowl in front of him. He held his head propped on his free hand, and he looked like he was on the verge of puking his guts out.

"Why don't you go lie down for a while?" she proposed. "You don't have much to do this morning, you can rest some more, rehydrate and get ready for this afternoon. You have hearings today, don't you?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I think it's a good idea. I have stuff to deal with in my office, I'll take care of them before the hearings this afternoon."

"Do you mind if I go into town to the bowmaker? The bow I stole from the bandits last seasons is worn and doesn't shoot at full power anymore, I wanted to have a new one made."

"I don't mind at all Kate, I think it's a great idea. Also, you've been cooped up at the palace ever since we arrived, go outside and enjoy the sun."

Indeed, she finished breakfast and headed out, leaving Castle to his kingly stuff as he cleared his head with some hot herbal remedy Alexis had prepared for him. If it was what Kate thought, given the smell, Castle was in for a nasty mix of peppermint, thistle and juniper in hot water, with only a spoonful of honey to make the taste better.

Anyway, she moved through the crowd of the city, down to the market square where the bowmaker held his shop. The store was a little dark, with only one window darkened by candle soot and dust to allow the light in from outside, and it smelled heavily of sawdust and the products used to cure the wood, the leather and the guts used to make quality bows.

The bowmaker was dealing with another customer, so while waiting, Kate took the string off her bow. The sudden release of tension made the metal arches whine and the wooden handle creak in its leather wrap. That thing was old, bent by misuse and despite her best efforts to restore it to its original splendor, the bow she had scavenged that fateful day was now nearly useless.

"You have served me well," she muttered at the object in her hands, then walked forward to the counter when the previous client headed for the exit.

"How can I help you today, my lady?" asked the cheerful middle aged man. He sported a long, bushy beard and a shaved head, his skin was scalded by the long hours spent under the peaking sun hunting elks or deers in the woods and the plains just south of Solitude.

"I'm looking for a bow that can replace this." She put the bow on the counter and let the artisan examine it.

"Mmh, quite a piece of work you have here, milady. This bow has seen better days but it surely a great one, when it was crafted. What happened to it?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I have no idea, I must be honest. I found it, after a bandit raid that failed. It worked when I needed it, and I tried to restore it but it goes beyond my knowledge. I don't think it can be repaired."

"Indeed, it can't. Unfortunate, such marksmanship shouldn't be treated this way. You did a marvellous job though, trying to restore it, but this type of damage goes beyond any repair. So, what kind of bow were you inclined to have crafted?"

"A warbow, something that can be drawn quickly, silently and that with the proper arrow can pierce armor."

The artisan smiled, beneath the thick, greying mustache. "That can be arranged. I'll speak with the blacksmith, I'm quite sure together we can pull of something great."

With that promise and a decent payment, Kate left the shop more than satisfied. It was still early, she doubted Castle was already done with his stuff so, to kill some time, she decided to head over to the inn close by and get something to drink.

Inside, the atmosphere was cheerful and relaxed. The few patrons were mostly travelers that had just passed the gates of Solitude and were looking for a place to lay down their belongings and put something in their stomach to restore their souls. The jovial chit chat filled the vast room and in a corner, a bard kept everyone happy with his lute, playing songs and ballads.

With a vast smile on her face, Kate sat at the empty counter and ordered a pint of light ale with juniper berries and a slice of warm bread with butter and honey. She still felt a little off, after last night, and experience taught her that eating something like that would make her feel better. "What's the word around town?" she asked the innkeeper as he served her snack.

"That the King is going on a more diplomatic route this time, to keep the Thalmor and the Empire out of here."

Someone sat on the stool beside her and ordered a pint of dark ale himself. "If you think threatening the Envoy is a more diplomatic route…" he interjected.

Kate closed her eyes for a moment. William. Her ex lover turned bodyguard for the Imperial Envoy. Of course, with all the people running around in Solitude, William had to sit at the counter of the inn at the same time she did.

Shit.

"Uh? Threatened? When? How?" she inquired.

"Yesterday the Envoy has been seen running away from the King's private chambers, as if running for his life."

"It was a bad reaction to the clam chowder, he was running for the chamber pot, not for his life."

"Ah, I forgot you were there. So, what's it like to be the High King's whore?"

Such an insinuation, when she was in charge of her band of raiders, would have meant certain death. She would have unsheathed her dagger and sliced his throat with no regrets, but she was once again in the midst of society. Such an action would have meant she'd set foot on the road that brought straight to the gallows.

"I'm his bodyguard, not his whore," she replied. "And even if I was his whore, it wouldn't mean anything to you."

"It does matter, Kate. I thought you weren't a fan of the Stormcloaks."

She nodded. "I wasn't. Then I was hired as King Castle's personal bodyguard, I listened to his reasoning and I found that most of what I thought about him was wrong." It was true, from a certain point of view.

"In other words, you're his whore now."

Grunting, she tightened her grip over the pewter cup in front of her, feeling the cool metal against her palm and not only her fingers. "I'm not anybody's whore, William," she said through clenched teeth. "Unlike you. At least I remained faithful, but you? You serve now those that wanted to enslave us, those that killed my family. How much do they pay you, uh?"

"Quite a lot," he said, as if it didn't matter. "I'm a mercenary, Kate. I've always been one that follows the man with the biggest purse. In this case, the Empire and the Thalmor have the biggest purses of all. What about your boss, Kate? What does he give you, in exchange for your protection?"

"My freedom."

She downed the last of her drink, paid and stormed out of the inn, hoping to get rid of him, his smirk and his fancy clothes. That idiot had sold himself for the better offer, giving up everything all children in Skyrim were brought up with, the strong sense of communion with their land and solidarity with their kinsmen.

But her hopes to leave him behind were vain. He followed her out in the square in front of the inn. "Kate!" he called. "Kate wait a second! What do you mean? I'm free, I'm free to leave this job whenever I feel like it!"

"Did they require you to cut your hair and beard? To change the way you dress and the way you speak?" she asked, still seething.

"Of course they did! I'm not raiding Dwemer ruins, I stay in the Imperial City and in courts all over Cyrodil now!"

"Then you're not free. Yours isn't freedom. Yours is servitude, masked as a job. They dictate the way you dress, how you speak, how you should wear your hair and beard, what and when you eat... and you know what comes after that? They will control what you think, if they don't already! You've become their puppet and you didn't even realize that!"

"Tell me then where the fuck you and I are different!" he screamed, not caring if people could hear them. "You claim you're free, but all I see is a woman that gave up all her ambitions to become a lawyer and instead became the whore of a man that cares about nothing but himself!"

She couldn't resist, she slapped him as hard as she could.

Not expecting such gesture, William staggered, one hand covering the cheek she had hit, bewildered. Before he could move backwards though, she grasped the front of his fine tunich and pulled him close to her. "Listen now, you traitorous idiot. Unlike you, I'm nobody's whore. I'm his wife, I married him because I love him, on my own free will. I serve him as his protector because on my own free will I chose to do so, when I was his prisoner. He showed me mercy when I deserved none, he showed me compassion when I had none for him. This is the difference between me and you, William. You sold your soul to the Thalmor for money, I gave my soul to a man for love."

She let him go and took a step back and admired his baffled, astounded face. "And if anyone anywhere gets word of this, I will personally hunt you down, cut your balls off and fry them with lard so I can serve them to you as your last meal before I watch you die with my hands wrapped around your neck."

Then she turned around and started walking towards the Palace.

"Kate, wait a moment!" William called her again. "Tell him that they're not happy with how the negotiation is going and be aware that they're discussing contacting the Dark Brotherhood. If I were you, I'd go back home as soon as I could. Oh, and one last thing; congratulations. You deserve it."

She gave him a weak smile. "Thanks William. For everything. I have to go back now. See you at the Palace."

**Author's Note:**

> Probably a two or three shot. Rating may go up. Give me time, I've got a lot of stuff to do, but I intend to continue this. I like Skyrim too much to leave it like this.


End file.
